


You Call This Acting?

by chellethewriter



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Crack, F/M, Identity Reveal, Oblivious Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng, crack with a surprising amount of plot, everyone in the ml universe is completely oblivious, i get real meta about stuff, i slap everyone in the face with dramatic irony, my hand slipped and i added a meme, secret identity shenanigans, this is a crack fic for the ages, tikki breaks the fourth wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-18 14:05:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13101744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chellethewriter/pseuds/chellethewriter
Summary: “It’s official—the long-awaited Ladybug and Chat Noir movie has cast its two leads! This fall, Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste will leap onto the big screen as Paris’s favorite superheroes!”People keep asking Marinette and Adrien what the “secret” is to playing Ladybug and Chat Noir. Quite separately, they answer that they’re just being themselves. They’re not kidding.Adrien’s big break and Marinette’s accidental movie audition end up endangering their secret identities. How are they supposed to hide the fact that theyaretheir roles from the whole world and each other?It’s not unethical for superheroes to play themselves, right?





	1. Observation & the Obvious

**Author's Note:**

> To the three people who encouraged me to write this utterly ridiculous trainwreck of a fic—I hope you’re happy. Because now we all have to deal with this mess. 
> 
> Some informative things:  
> \- This is indeed a crackfic. If you ignore the pure absurdity of this fic, however, you may convince yourself that it is, like, canon-compliant or something.  
> \- There are lots of jokes in this fic. Some of them are well-meaning wisecracks about things in the show that don’t quite make sense. If you feel like that isn’t your cup of tea, you might want to get out now.  
> \- I know literally 0.02 things about France and French.  
> \- There might be some inaccuracies. I am well aware that research would remedy this issue. The problem, you see, is that I’m a lazy piece of garbage.  
> \- There might be some ooc moments. If you’re wondering why, please see the previous bullet.  
> \- THIS IS A COMEDY, THROUGH AND THROUGH. 
> 
> I’ll be updating this monstrosity daily until completion so feel free to stay tuned.

Marinette considers herself a very observant person.

Clumsy and forgetful, perhaps, but always observant enough to notice Hawk Moth working his mischief on Paris. Whenever an Akumatized villain appears, Ladybug does as well. That’s her noble responsibility, in fact—to be Paris’s prompt and attentive protector.

And if her hero status is any indication, she performs her job quite well.

Even her lucky charm magic requires her to be vigilant, otherwise, she would miss the potential strategy in the random objects around her. And clearly, she has a nose for finding the Akumas’ hiding places on Hawk Moth’s villains. How else would she cleanse those little butterflies so easily?

So yes, Marinette is fairly confident in her powers of observation. Which is why she often finds herself frustrated with Chat Noir, her crime-fighting partner, who seems determined to ask the same silly questions over and over again.

In particular, he enjoys asking the one question she doesn’t care to think about: do Ladybug and Chat Noir know each other in real life?

God, she hates that question. Mostly because Marinette knows the truth. The answer is _no_ —a definite no.

In Marinette’s view, it’d be pathetically easy to tag Chat in a crowd. He can’t hide that exasperating bravado from her—not in person, anyway. With her powers of observation, Marinette is certain that if she ever met Chat Noir’s civilian identity, the cat would immediately be out of the bag. Pun intended.

She understands. Really, she does. He’s a cat. They’re known for their morbid curiosity, or so the saying goes. But Marinette just doesn’t see the point.

“Can’t we talk about something else for once?” Ladybug complains as she dodges an onslaught of garbage. And yes, she means _literal_ garbage. Hawk Moth’s Akumatized villain _du_ _jour_ is none other than a disgruntled garbage collector.

An enormous trash bag sails over her head, and its smell is utterly horrific. Like that of rotting fish or spoiled milk. Gagging, Ladybug pinches her nose and straightens, trying to reevaluate the situation. Their plan was simple—Chat would distract the villain, and Ladybug would sneak up behind him to destroy the neon vest that contains the Akuma.

But the so-dubbed _Garbage King_ is a bit more watchful than she anticipated. Despite Chat’s boastful taunts and Ladybug’s discreet approach, the Garbage King spotted Ladybug in his peripheral vision (a red and black spotted costume isn’t that attention-grabbing, is it?) and promptly sent her a fresh delivery of trash.

Which, unfortunately for Marinette, is an oxymoron.

Chat then ceased his antics and took the offensive, physically attempting to claw the vest from the Akuma’s victim. It was then that she was again reacquainted with a well-developed skill of Chat’s—his extraordinary ability to split his attention between fighting and flirting. It’d be impressive if it wasn’t so annoying, Marinette thinks.

So here they are, mid-battle, with Chat _once again_ asking about the implications of their civilian identities. Really, they shouldn’t converse during fights at all—it’s too distracting. But knowing Chat’s personality, Marinette would just settle for a topic change.

“Fine,” Chat replies, swinging his staff like a baseball bat against an incoming trash bag, causing it to fly away at top speeds. “What would you prefer to talk about instead?”

Ladybug groans and pinches the bridge of her nose. “How about we don’t talk at all, and focus instead?”

But Chat ignores her in favor of snapping his fingers and looking pleased with himself. “Wait!” he exclaims, tapping his chin with a clawed glove. “Did you hear that they’re making a movie about us? I saw it on the news!”

This time, the Garbage King sends an entire dumpster toward Ladybug, and she narrowly avoids getting crushed. Marinette readies her yo-yo because, right now, she’s far too frustrated with their lack of progress to spare any real interest in the movie.

“Yeah, I know. It’s been all over the Ladyblog,” Ladybug yells to Chat. “And from what I’ve heard, it’ll probably be _trash_.”

“Hey!” Chat protests as she shouts _Lucky Charm!_ and launches her yo-yo into the air. “Puns are my bit!”

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Adrien hates stacks of paper. Most teenagers do, he’s sure, considering that stacks of paper are often synonymous with homework. But Adrien harbors a particular brand of hatred toward them—toward the endless itineraries so often organized by Nathalie or his father. He hates missing school for exhausting photoshoot schedules, hates missing opportunities to spend time with his friends.

So when Adrien descends the stairs one morning to find a thick stack of papers on the dining room table, he’s already expecting the worst. What has his father planned for him this time?

He glances over the front page of the stack, which is nearly blank save a few words in a serif font, centered on the page.

 

LADYBUG AND CHAT NOIR

Written by Bruno Genet

 

Ladybug and…?

_What?_

Stunned, Adrien barely manages to tumble into a nearby chair and snatch up the papers. He flips through them in a frenzy, skimming over pages upon pages of snappy dialogue and copious action sequences.

But why the heck is the new _Ladybug and Chat Noir_ movie script just sitting on Adrien’s dining room table? Is this some sort of joke?

Nathalie—who seems characteristically disinterested in life, as always—chooses to enter the room at that moment. With her black and red suit, elegant glasses, and sleek hairstyle, her appearance is just as typically stoic as her demeanor. The normalcy of her arrival strikes Adrien as terribly contradictory to the discovery of that _bizarre_ script on the dining room table.

“Good morning, Adrien,” Nathalie intones. “I see you found the screenplay.”

Adrien blinks and stands, feeling more confused than ever. The papers are still clutched tightly in his hands. “What’s going on, Nathalie?” he asks. “This can’t be the real thing.”

Nathalie hums, placing her arms behind her back. “Well, not yet. It still needs to be fully finalized for you by the studio, but that should happen by the end of the week.”

Still failing to comprehend the situation, Adrien simply gapes at her.

“Finalized for—?”

“For you, Adrien,” Nathalie finishes impatiently. “That screenplay is yours. Your father has agreed to let you play Chat Noir in the new movie—he thought it would be a wonderful opportunity.”

This time, when Adrien tries to sit, he misses the chair and ends up sprawled on his father’s pristine white floors. The pain of the fall doesn’t even register, and he flails as he tries to remember the physics of bodily movement. It seems to him that his supermodel grace has flown out the window, taking all worldly logic with it.

Adrien… who is secretly Chat Noir…

…is going to be _playing_ Chat Noir in an upcoming movie?

“What is my father thinking?” Adrien practically shrieks, too horrified to even leave the floor. He clutches his head in disbelief, mangling the usually-perfect hair that the _Gabriel_ brand would copyright if possible. “I can’t play Chat Noir!”

“Nonsense!” Nathalie says. “A casting director saw your magazine spread last month, and positively insisted that you take the role. You’ll do fine, Adrien. Your father has every confidence in your acting ability.”

Oh, Adrien doesn’t doubt that he’s good enough to play Chat Noir. He’s _too good_ to play Chat Noir. He _is_ Chat Noir. The second he puts on that costume, he’ll be done for. The world will know the truth, his father will know the truth, and Ladybug will cease to associate with him. He’ll end up stuck in his bedroom for the rest of his life with no one but Plagg and camembert cheese for company—if his overprotective father doesn’t confiscate the little Kwami, that is.

“But I don’t want to play Chat Noir!” Adrien objects, an edge of desperation in his voice.

“Adrien,” Nathalie warns, “this is a big break for you—your chance to go from modeling to the big screen. That’s what your father wants for you, and that’s what you should want for yourself.”

“But—”

“The matter is settled. Contracts have been signed with the studio. You start pre-production next week, so I suggest you start studying that script.”

Nathalie walks out brusquely, leaving Adrien alone with what may possibly be the best/worst casting decision in cinema history. What are the chances that a casting director accidentally recruits Chat Noir for the role of Chat Noir?

He suddenly finds himself picturing a tombstone with the words _“Here Lies Adrien Agreste’s Secret Identity”_ engraved upon its surface. Beside it, he imagines, is another tombstone labeled “ _Here Lies Adrien Agreste_ ,” because Ladybug is going to  _kill him_ for this.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever read in my life,” Marinette moans, hand pressed against her forehead.

“ _Excuse you?_ ” Alya demands, eyes snapping up from the phone screen to glare at Marinette scathingly.

Marinette raises her hands in a gesture of mock surrender, realizing the implication of her words. “What I mean,” Marinette continues quickly, “is that your writing is wonderful as always, Alya. It’s just so…” Her nose wrinkles. “... _weird_ to imagine Adrien as Chat Noir.”

Ever since Adrien was cast in the _Ladybug and Chat Noir_ movie, Alya has made it her personal mission to show Marinette her Ladyblog posts about the upcoming film, thinking that her interest in Adrien would prompt an interest in the movie. But the situation is not so simple. For someone like Chloe, maybe, seeing Adrien in a Chat Noir costume would be swoon-worthy. To Marinette, however, the sight would be downright confusing. Why would she want to see _the love of her life_ dressed up as her very-much-platonic best friend?

But Alya doesn’t need Adrien’s big break to justify shoving the Ladyblog in Marinette’s face. The movie, Alya says, has brought unprecedented traffic to the Ladyblog, which means that her posts are more popular than ever. Naturally, Alya has been bursting with pride as a result, and to who else can Alya brag but her best friend, Marinette?

Marinette, who is secretly Ladybug, the subject of Alya’s blog. Even if Alya is entirely ignorant of that fact.

The most recent Ladyblog post (incidentally, the same article that Marinette and Alya just read together) is about movie-Chat Noir’s costume design. Alya’s piece was mostly speculation about whether the producers would exchange the somewhat risque leather costume for something more wholesome. Adrien, as quoted in Alya’s interview with him, declared that he “would prefer for the costume to look completely different. Like entirely different. With no similarities whatsoever.” But, unfortunately for him, everyone knows that the decision will ultimately fall to the producers.

“I don’t know, Alya,” Marinette says, gently pushing her friend’s phone away. “This whole movie seems weird to me. These aren’t fictional characters that they’re dealing with—they’re real people. The Ladybug portrayal will probably be totally off.”

“No way! It’s gonna be awesome!” Alya denies, shaking her head fiercely. “And I can prove it.”

“What do you mean?”

Alya inhales hugely, as if preparing herself for a confession, but her smile is too wide for something so serious. “Okay, I was gonna keep this as a surprise until later, but seeing as you’re such a _doubter_...”

Unappreciative of the suspense, Marinette just stares expectantly at her.

“I’m going to be consulting on the _Ladybug and Chat Noir_ movie!” Alya rushes out, grabbing at Marinette’s shoulders and shaking them excitedly. “They called me a few days ago because I run the Ladyblog, can you _believe_ it? Apparently, they’re having trouble casting a good Ladybug and they want my input because, well, clearly I’m the expert on all things Ladybug—”

_Except the fact that she’s secretly your best friend_ , Marinette thinks, somewhat exasperated.

No matter what Alya says, Marinette suspects that she’ll never be happy with her movie portrayal. There’s only so much that Alya really knows about Ladybug, and thus, only so much that she can relay to the producers. Marinette is Ladybug and Ladybug is Marinette even if everyone, including her best friend, thinks they’re completely separate. Whatever, _whoever_ they show in that movie will be nothing but a superficial caricature.

Maybe it’s selfish to think so, but Marinette firmly believes that no one short of herself could play Ladybug. Not that the world would ever—could ever—know.

“In fa-act,” Alya sing-songs, “They’ve asked me to sit-in on their Ladybug auditions today. I bet I could totally bring you along. You’d just have to keep the spoilers on the down-low.”

The idea doesn’t sound particularly enticing to Marinette—it’d probably be embarrassing to see so many people vying for a chance to be Ladybug.

“I don’t know, Alya…”

“But consider: Adrien will be there.”

Marinette would like to say that there was some sort of internal tug of war before she answered—some sort of thorough consideration of her options. But for some reason, whenever she hears the name “Adrien,” all her personal values, plans, and priorities seem to evaporate in favor of stuttering sentences and something that Alya calls “insatiable thirst.”  

So she agrees.

Besides, shouldn’t Ladybug be first to learn who’s playing Ladybug?

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Alya is a shrieking, blubbering mess after a total of twenty seconds at the studio.

“Marinette, look!” she yells, pointing not-at-all discreetly at an actor in a cupid costume. “There’s someone playing Dark Cupid! Oh, and there’s the Bubbler… And Princess Fragrance! Oh and there’s—” Alya gasps and begins to jump up and down in absolute elation. “There’s _Lady Wifi_! Oh my god, that’s me! Or that _was_ me!”

Marinette briefly surveys the actress and her costume. The movie-Lady Wifi is approximately six-feet tall with blonde hair, and has significantly less clothing than Marinette remembers Alya having during her short stint as an Akumatized villain.

“That woman looks nothing like you, Alya.”

“So? I’m there in spirit. God, this is so _cool_ , isn’t it, Marinette? Practically our whole class is gonna be in this movie as villains!”

Marinette shrugs as they continue to stroll along the studio. Truthfully, Marinette is rather disinterested in the people wearing costumes. She’s far more inclined to watch the costume designers flit between the actors and extras, placing finishing touches on outfits or discussing new ideas. If Marinette could work on a movie set (an unlikely prospect, in her opinion, given her runway aspirations), she thinks that would be her dream job.

“I mean, I don’t exactly think it’s ‘cool’ that so many people we know have been Akumatized,” Marinette replies. “But I guess the whole ‘being in a movie’ thing is pretty neat.”

“C’mon, Marinette, aren’t you a little excited to—” Alya begins, but then abruptly stops, seeming troubled by something.

“What’s wrong, Alya?”

“You’ve never been Akumatized, have you?” Alya wonders, seeming amazed that she hasn’t noticed this before.

Marinette rubs the back of her neck. “Ah, well… no… I guess I haven’t.”

Alya squints at her. “But almost _everyone_ in our class has been Akumatized at some point.”

Marinette laughs nervously. “I guess I’m just always thinking positive thoughts?” she offers with a shrug, but even she knows it’s a weak excuse.

Alya stares at her for several seconds too long, eyes narrowed, before she gives a short hum and changes the topic. Marinette breathes an uneasy sigh—she has a feeling that the issue will resurface somehow. Once she gets curious, Alya never lets anything go.

Maybe Alya and Chat Noir should hang out sometime.

“Oh. My. God. Adrien, is that you?!” Alya yells, directing her voice toward a spot over Marinette’s shoulder. To Marinette, that name is like a claxon, and her whole body goes into _fight or flight_ mode. How did Alya find Adrien so quickly? No, no, Marinette isn’t prepared, not yet… she was supposed to have more time to fix her hair or rehearse something to say or run out of the building screaming, but now—

Marinette spins around in a panic, expecting to see the love of her life, Adrien, on a ruinously fast approach, but instead she sees…

Chat Noir?

He smiles (Chat’s smile) and waves at them (with Chat’s clawed glove), breaking away from a conversation to greet them. “Hey, Alya! Hey, Marinette!” he calls, practically beaming at them.

A few seconds later, and Chat Noir is standing directly in front of Marinette and Alya, seeming exceedingly casual about the whole thing. But… it’s not supposed to be a casual situation! Chat shouldn’t have more than a vague familiarity with Marinette, and yet he’s greeting her like an old friend. Does he know something—?

“That is one heck of a costume, Adrien!” Alya exclaims, gesturing to his attire. “You literally look just like Chat Noir.”

“I better,” he sighs, glancing down at his gloves. “The costume and makeup designers have been fussing over me for days. It’s been exhausting.”

Trying to regain her senses, Marinette blinks and shakes her head. Right. _Right_. This isn’t Chat. This is Adrien. Adrien is playing Chat Noir in the movie, she knew that, so  _of course_ the producers would want his costume to be as realistic as possible. That’s why he looks just like Chat. Ha! How silly of her.

“By the way, Alya,” Adrien begins. “The casting directors and producers are waiting for you. They’ve got a lineup of potential Ladybug actresses for you to check out. Actually, I can take you to them if you want—I was gonna watch the auditions.”

“Lead the way, _Chat Noir_.”

Adrien grins once more, and Marinette is again stricken by his appearance. Dressed like this… Adrien could be Chat’s identical twin.

“Perfect,” Adrien says, gesturing them down a hallway. “Follow me.”

Marinette exhales in relief. That’s the proof she needed. If Adrien missed a pun opportunity that… well… _purrfect_ … there’s no way he could be Chat.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

When Adrien said there was a lineup of potential Ladybug actresses, he really wasn’t kidding. Alya has placed herself at a table of casting directors and producers. They’re facing a slightly raised platform intended for the auditioners, who, in their mass quantities, extend out the door and down the hallway. As far as Marinette can tell, there must be over a hundred people standing in line—which means that Alya certainly has her work cut out for her.

Adrien and Marinette, meanwhile, are standing toward the back of the room, prepared to witness “Ladybug’s” casting without interfering with the actual process. As the auditions start, Marinette tries to remain silent and focused on the actresses.

But for some reason, she keeps sneaking glances at Adrien.

What’s wrong with her, she wonders? Is it the fact that Adrien is standing next to her (a usual cause for her odd behaviors)? Or… is it because he’s dressed like Chat?

(Or is it the fact that all these auditioners are _awful_ , and portray Ladybug like a stale, soulless stock character?)

At one point, Adrien catches her staring at him and does something that Marinette really, really can’t handle.

He winks at her.

_God_ , he winks at her, and then, in true suave Chat-like fashion, he says:

“Something wrong, Princess?”

Marinette nearly chokes on air, utterly unbelieving that those words left his mouth. Despite all appearances, this is Adrien, not Chat, standing next to her right now. So how would he know about that nickname, _Princess_ , which Chat has called Marinette in their few past encounters?

But before she can question him, Adrien transitions from smooth to near-panicked in an instant.

“I bet you're wondering how I knew that Chat calls you that!” he remarks quickly, beating her to the punch. “I did  _a lot_ of research. I know everything about each Akuma attack, even the Evillustrator’s. Impressive, huh?”

“Oh,” Marinette says slowly, blinking and eventually managing to shoot him a thumbs up. “Yeah. Very impressive. Nice work.”

He exhales heavily, seeming oddly relieved at her approval.

“Adrikins!” a disgustingly familiar voice then interrupts. It’s not long before Marinette finds—much to her own chagrin—a waving Chloe Bourgeois in the line of auditioners. It’s all too obvious that she’s waving at Adrien and only Adrien—a notion that is solidified by the brief but harsh glare that Chloe sends Marinette’s way.

Marinette lets out an aggrieved groan. “I can’t believe this. _Chloe’s_ auditioning?”

“Well, it’s a pretty open audition. I bet anyone in Paris with the right connections could try for the part, and well… there’s Chloe’s father.”

Ah, of course. Chloe’s father—the only possible explanation for any of Chloe’s accomplishments.

“Great. Just great,” Marinette mutters, seething. “The last thing Ladybug needs is someone like Chloe representing her.”

But then she remembers that Adrien and Chloe are childhood friends, and her eyes widen in embarrassment. Crap! Why did she open her big mouth, okay, she should apologize to him, or explain herself—

Hoping to save the situation (and her chances with Adrien), Marinette spins toward him and stammers helplessly, “What I mean is that… well… Chloe would be—”

“She’d be a terrible Ladybug,” Adrien says bluntly. “Chloe is many things, but Ladybug, she is not.”

She’s surprised that Adrien has such an established opinion on the matter. But then again, Adrien has never been blind to Chloe’s faults, even if he maintains a friendship with her.  

Soon enough, it’s Chloe’s turn in front of the casting panel. Every auditioner has been given the same set of lines to read, and Chloe is no exception. Marinette hasn’t seen the larger script and has no idea what the plot of the movie fully entails, but the gist of this scene is easily understood: Ladybug is confronting Hawk Moth right before some sort of major battle. Much of it is dramatic monologue on Ladybug’s part, simple promises to “take him down” and so on, but nearly every actress has butchered it so far.

Chloe’s version, if anything, is the worst yet. She abandons the script halfway through for her own improvisation and says the lines like she’s throwing a tantrum.

“So take that, Hawk Moth!” she screams, pointing at some nonexistent foe in front of her.

Marinette sees Alya choke down a laugh. The casting directors look thoroughly unimpressed, and dismiss Chloe with an irritated, “Next!”

Chloe leaves the platform with great hostility, spewing threats about contacting her father and huffing about her _clear_ similarities to Ladybug. Marinette rolls her eyes. Doesn’t Chloe know that they’re not casting on the spot? Unless they find someone truly perfect for the role, the casting directors are hoping to gather a set of potential Ladybugs to audition further, with these performances as a preliminary step. But Chloe probably believes herself to be “perfect.”

Because casting decisions will be reached later, the actresses are expected to stay after their performances. Which means that, as much as Marinette wishes otherwise, Chloe is allowed to stick around. Thankfully, she elects to stand by the door rather than next to Adrien, most likely so that she can glare threateningly at her “competition.”

The next auditioner keeps batting her eyelashes and giggling cutely after every word. Marinette cringes. God, does _everyone_ see Ladybug as some sort of airhead?

“Do you think Alya will cast a good Ladybug?” Chat— _no_ , Adrien—asks Marinette suddenly, seeming doubtful.

If she were willing to provide her true opinion, Marinette’s answer would be _no_ , Alya probably will not pick a good Ladybug actress. But Marinette is far too loyal to belittle her best friend like that. Alya is just so excited about this, and so confident that the movie will be perfect...

But she also wants to be truthful for once.

“It’ll probably be fine,” she replies with a small shrug as if to indicate _“Who’s to say?”_

Maybe Marinette suspected for the topic to be dropped after that. But oddly enough, it seems like Adrien finds her uncertainty intriguing, and leans closer to whisper, “Fine but not good?”

Marinette makes a noncommittal noise. “Ladybug’s not exactly an easy person to imitate. I mean, there’s a lot about her that we don’t know.”

“But I thought Alya was the ‘Ladybug expert.’”

“Alya knows a lot about Ladybug’s superhero side. But she probably has a life beyond that, you know?”

Adrien is silent for several seconds before he speaks up again.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he agrees somewhat wistfully. “I don’t think anyone can really compare to Ladybug. She’s just so… so…”

He makes a vaguely appreciative gesture that Marinette doesn’t know how to interpret. _Boys_. Honestly. Can’t he just use his words like a normal person? Marinette isn’t—

Words. Using words.

The realization strikes her quite suddenly. Against all odds, Marinette has managed to properly use words around Adrien. She has formulated several coherent sentences in his presence. She has even shared a conversation with him, Adrien, the boy who normally leaves her tongue-tied and hysterical.  

Marinette doesn’t understand. What’s different this time? After struggling for so long, why has she suddenly gained the ability to speak to Adrien without becoming a stuttering, unintelligible mess?

Wait...

Marinette’s eyes snap to Adrien’s outfit.

That’s it! The Chat Noir costume! For some reason, when Adrien is in that silly leather suit, Marinette finds it much easier to talk to him.

In truth, it makes _so much_ sense. If Chat Noir is one of her closest friends, it’s really no wonder that she feels more comfortable around someone who looks like him. She supposes that so long as Adrien’s intimidating supermodel good-looks are hidden behind a Chat Noir mask, Marinette is able to talk to him just fine. Go figure!

Ugh, if only he’d wear it more often!

“Well,” Adrien continues, casually examining his gloves, “even if they fail to pick a good Ladybug, at least they have a perfect Chat Noir.”

Marinette laughs. “Perfect, huh?”

A new actress mounts the platform and simply lets out an agonized scream. That’s it. Just a scream, nothing else. She is promptly escorted from the room, but Marinette and Adrien hardly notice.

“What?” Adrien demands. “I think I make a pretty good Chat Noir.”

“I mean, it seems like you’ve got the self-assurance down. But…” Marinette taps her chin. “I think your puns could use some work. You missed a pretty good pun opportunity earlier. Chat would never say ‘perfect’ without _actually_ purring.”

The grin he shoots her is very Chat-like. “Never took you for a Chat Noir fan.”

“I’m not—”

“Let me guess: Alya’s the Ladybug expert, so _you_ must be the Chat Noir expert.”

Marinette shoves him lightly, mockingly offended. “Not a chance! I’m a Ladybug fangirl, through and through. I’ve just met Chat personally, and… well… he leaves quite the impression.”

“Because he’s so amazing, right?”

Chuckling, Marinette counters, “Amazingly corny, maybe.”

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Alya had high hopes for the Ladybug auditions, but so far, she has been sorely disappointed. The auditions haven’t just attracted bad actresses—they’ve also attracted downright _weirdos_. At one point, Alya sat stunned and horrified as one woman started crawling on the floor like a real ladybug, not even bothering to look at the script. When she started screaming “APHIDS!” over and over again, the producers were forced to remove her from the studio.

Alya is now greeted by yet another strange case. Instead of one auditioner taking the spotlight, two mount the platform. One is a relatively short girl with dyed black hair gathered into pigtails, while the other is an exceedingly tall boy with a bleached-blonde mop-top. It’s clear that they’re Ladybug and Chat Noir fans— there are red ribbons in the girl’s hair, and black cat ears in the boy’s.

The girl shoots the casting panel a sickeningly sweet smile and gestures to herself with a flourish.

“I’m Simone Duval,” she gushes, and then grabs the boy by the shoulders with some difficulty, considering his superior height. “And this is Remi Duval. We’ll be auditioning for the parts of Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

The casting panel exchanges perplexed glances among themselves. Alya briefly turns around to share a mystified look with Marinette and Adrien, who are also watching these oddly-accessorized auditioners with a mixture of fascination and skepticism.

“Well, uh, it’s nice to meet you, Remi,” the casting director begins. “But we’re not holding auditions for Chat Noir. He’s already been cast. On the other hand, Simone, if you’d like to audition for Ladybug—”

“Oh, come on. You’re seriously letting some airhead supermodel play the part of Paris’s _beloved_ Chat Noir?” Simone scoffs, clasping a hand to her chest. “It’s a disgrace! Adrien Agreste probably doesn’t know the first thing about Chat Noir!”

Alya raises an eyebrow challengingly. “And you two do?”

Simone giggles. “Yes, actually. My brother and I have been waiting for this moment since, like, forever. We’ve spent years—and I mean _years_ —studying Ladybug and Chat Noir’s behavior. We’re beyond well-versed in their mannerisms and body language. Trust me, Simone and Remi Duval are the _true_ Ladybug and Chat Noir experts.”

Alya crosses her arms, not at all impressed by the claim. No way is this girl any sort of expert—Alya bets that she’s never even met Ladybug before. _Besides_ , she thinks with an eye roll, _who talks about themselves in the third person? What is Simone, an original character from a bad Ladybug fanfiction? Jeez._

Smiling again, Simone then takes her brother’s hand. “‘Besides,” she begins, “who could better portray the familial camaraderie between Ladybug and Chat Noir than a pair of adorable siblings?”

One of the producers chokes on his coffee.

“Yeah, um,” the casting director continues, “familial camaraderie really _isn’t_ what we’re going for in this film.”

Simone glares. “What do you mean? Ladybug and Chat Noir have a strong platonic bond—”

“Look, Simone,” another producer interjects, “You can either audition for Ladybug _by yourself_ , or you can leave. I’m sorry.”

Simone inhales sharply and clenches her fists. “If you won’t take Remi,” she practically shrieks, “then you can’t have me either!”

“Alright then,” the producer replies with a chilly smile as he dramatically crosses her name off of his list of auditioners. “Next!”

Outraged, Simone stomps off the stage, dragging the silent Remi with her.

Before the next actress can take the stage, one of the producers stands and cups his hands around his mouth. He yells to the line of auditioners, “Alright, we’re taking a five-minute break! Repeat: auditions continue in five!”

After that, the entire casting panel slumps back in their seats, utterly exhausted from watching so many unsatisfactory if not awful performances.

“This is getting us nowhere,” the previously-choking producer says hoarsely. “We’ve seen over seventy auditions by now, and none of them are good enough. This movie will tank unless we cast a likable Ladybug.”

The casting director shakes her head and crosses her arms. “I just can’t picture any of these girls working with Adrien.”

The woman then turns around in her seat to scrutinize Adrien, who she must have seen move to the back of the room at the start of the auditions. (He is, after all, a little hard to miss in that Chat Noir costume.) Alya follows her gaze to see…

Is that… Marinette _laughing_ with Adrien?

Whoa, whoa, whoa. They’re actually talking! Somehow, someway, Adrien and Marinette are having a normal conversation, if not a good time together. That’s a goal that Marinette has been trying to accomplish for years! What the heck is going on? What happened between them?

Alya watches with bated breath as Marinette puts a hand on Adrien’s shoulder and _leaves it there_.

_Girl_ , she squeals internally, _Girl, GET IT._

Alya can’t believe it—can’t help but wonder who that confident lady is, and what she’s done with Marinette.

The casting director makes a little box with her fingers and raises it to the scene in front of her, as if framing a shot of Marinette and Adrien. With a closed eye and a smirk, she remarks, “You know… it seems like those two have good chemistry.”

One of the producers also turns and examines the sight of Marinette and Adrien talking. “Hmm… is she one of the actresses we saw? I don’t remember.”

“Uh, no,” Alya interjects. “That’s my friend, Marinette. She helps me with the Ladyblog sometimes. You told me I could bring her along to get her input, remember?”

The story was a lie when she first told it, and it still is, but the producers seem to buy it wholeheartedly. They don't need to know that Marinette is just her best friend and not a Ladyblog contributor.

“She’s got the right look. The right chemistry. And apparently some background knowledge as well,” the casting director lists off, seeming oddly pleased. “Alya, has your friend considered auditioning for Ladybug?”

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

“What exactly are _you_ doing here, Marinette?” Chloe demands, using the short break in auditions to stalk over to Adrien’s spot by the wall.

When Marinette clenches her fists, Adrien immediately senses a conflict brewing between the two girls. They’ve never gotten along (not that Chloe has ever made it easy). But considering that both Marinette and Chloe are his friends, he wants to defuse the situation before it spirals out of control.

“Marinette tagged along with Alya. So we’ve been hanging out, watching the auditions,” Adrien explains in an appealing sort of tone, knowing that Chloe would object to Marinette doing… well… anything.

The last thing Adrien needs is for Chloe to go on a rampage. He’s had a difficult enough day already.

So long as he’s wearing this remarkably convincing Chat Noir costume, his brain is positively itching to make a pun, or do something otherwise catlike. But Adrien Agreste isn’t supposed to act that way when he’s not playing his role. Adrien Agreste is supposed to be a normal, mild-mannered teenage boy who doesn’t make bad jokes or run on all fours.

It’s been exhausting, expending so much mental energy on avoiding the natural behaviors that are so likely to reveal Adrien’s secret identity. Because he looks like Chat Noir, it’s crucial that he doesn’t spend his downtime also behaving like Chat Noir. The potential risks are too great.

He nearly exposed himself to Marinette a little while ago. God, did he really call her _Princess_ so carelessly? What was Adrien even thinking?

Well, he knows what he’s thinking now. He’s thinking that he’s lucky that she bought his ridiculous excuses.

“Ooh, are you both here to see my big break?” Chloe exclaims with a flip of her hair. “I mean, at this point, it’s pretty much a given that I’ll be playing Ladybug in the movie. My audition was stellar.”

“Uh,” Adrien flounders, certain that was not the case, seeing as he witnessed the less-than-stellar audition in question. “Whatever you say, Chloe.”

Beside him, Marinette is chanting something under her breath. He can’t be sure, but he could swear that she’s repeating _“Don’t be mean, Don’t be mean,”_ to herself. Which, given Chloe’s performance, is an admirable but difficult goal.

“And Adrien,” Chloe continues with a swoon, placing a hand against his chest. “You look positively fabulous in that Chat Noir costume! Just as muscular as the real thing, I bet. _Me-ow!_ ”

He chooses to ignore the last part of her compliment (he never thought he’d meet a cat pun he didn’t like, but he supposes there’s a first time for everything) and instead focuses on the proof he needs to settle an earlier argument.

With a boastful grin, Adrien peels Chloe’s hand off his suit and turns to Marinette. “See? She agrees. Chat Noir is totally muscular!”

Marinette shakes her head with teasing disdain and crosses her arms. “By whose standards? _Chloe’s_? Sorry, Adrien, but I’m still not buying it.”

For a moment, Chloe just gapes at Marinette, probably thinking the same thing that Adrien did at the start of the auditions: Did Marinette actually spare him a whole sentence?

Usually, Marinette just stammers and spews nonsense around him—behaviors which Adrien has attributed to acute shyness. But recently (today only, really) Marinette’s confidence has considerably increased, and she’s been joking with him all throughout the auditions. Adrien doesn’t even mind that her wisecracks are at Chat Noir’s expense. In fact, he finds them pretty hilarious.

Even in this short time, Adrien has realized that Marinette is not at all as shy as he originally thought. With the confidence he’s seen today, a few spots, and a magic yo-yo, she’d practically be Ladybug.

He’s about to continue his mock argument with her when Alya approaches from the casting panel, looking excited but a little bewildered.

“Hey, Marinette?” she begins. “Odd question: you wouldn’t be interested in trying out for Ladybug, would you?”

Marinette blinks. “What?”

“Crazy, I know, but the casting director saw you and got this idea in her head that you’d be good for the part,” Alya explains rapidly. “You don’t have to, of course, but she wanted to make the offer. They’ll even let you skip the line.”

Frozen and unable to comprehend Alya’s words, Marinette just stares.

Until Chloe starts laughing cruelly, that is.

“Marinette? As Ladybug?” Chloe gasps between peals, doubled over. “As if! Marinette can barely pretend to be a functional member of society, let alone someone as awesome as Ladybug.”

That comment seems to break the spell, slingshotting Marinette out of blank confusion and into furious indignation. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Chloe,” she snaps.

“Oh, come on. Little Marinette, a superhero? You can’t walk down a set of stairs without falling all over the place. And let’s face it—red isn't your color. I don’t think anything’s your color, actually.”

There’s practically steam coming out of Marinette’s ears now, and it’s at that moment that Adrien realizes how this conversation will end.

“You know what, Alya?” Marinette finally grits out, beginning to march toward the casting panel. “I would _love_ to audition, actually.”

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Marinette considers herself an observant person. She also considers herself a rational one.

At this moment in time, however, she is neither of those things.

She is not observing the large quantities of people in the room to whom she could reveal her identity. She is not recognizing Adrien’s eyes on her, or the eagerness with which the casting director is watching her performance.

She is not thinking about the potential consequences of this decision. She is not thinking about the fact that she, as Ladybug, should not be auditioning for the movie role of Ladybug. And she is not thinking about the risks of revealing her secret identity.

She’s only thinking about proving _stupid_ Chloe wrong. Because, seriously, how can Chloe claim that Marinette would make a horrible Ladybug? Marinette _is_ Ladybug. There’s not a better Ladybug to be found!

Marinette doesn’t really expect anything but satisfaction in knowing her acting skills are better than Chloe’s. Really. Petty as it is, that’s all she wants. Movie role be damned.

Marinette has a small script in her hand that Alya provided. She’s supposed to read it with _feeling_ , or something, and it seems like a simple enough task. She just has to be better than Chloe, right? Which means that she’ll be fine if she more-or-less sticks to the script.

And acts like Ladybug, of course.

Marinette thinks for a moment. What would she do—how would she act—if she were confronting Hawk Moth like her movie version does? Outside of fiction, she’s never had the chance to fight him directly. Would she be relieved? Scared? Angry?

Probably a mix of everything, really.

But… she thinks she’d be steady. Determined. So that’s exactly what she’ll be during this audition.

“I know you’re here, Hawk Moth!” she yells suddenly, imagining that he is somewhere in the rafters, hiding from her. And that’s what he’s been doing, isn’t it? Hiding behind secret lairs and Akumatized villains, far out of her reach. It’s exhausting and frustrating and _scary_.

But she won’t allow it. She won’t allow for him to hide anymore.

“I know what you’ve been doing. I know that you’ve been hurting innocent people to get our Miraculous. I know that you plan to use their magic for evil, just as you’ve used all those people for evil.”

She breathes a shaky inhale, remembering all the hardships associated with those Akuma attacks, all the bruises and the cuts and the fear. She channels that. Uses that.

“I’ve never understood how someone could be so selfish. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe that’s an important difference between you and me.”

That wasn’t even in the script, she realizes. It just felt right to say. It’s something that she’s always _wanted_ to say.

“I’m sick and tired of this game, Hawk Moth. Paris deserves to be safe again. Stop forcing others to do your dirty work and face me, coward!”

She’s screaming at him now, and it feels a little too real. Like this is _it_ , the one and only chance she has to finish this seemingly eternal battle. Maybe she can provoke him out from behind those rafters. Maybe she can’t. But she has to try, and she will.

The silence that succeeds her words is crushing, and Marinette hardly notices. She focuses on him, on provoking Hawk Moth, lowering her voice to a whisper. The change in her tone is startling to even her own ears.

“So what do you say, Hawk Moth? Think you can take on Lady Luck?”

Marinette immediately regrets the last part, knowing how corny it must have sounded. It is with that regret that the Hawk Moth of her imagination, wherever he may be in those rafters, evaporates. Marinette then abandons the illusion of Ladybug as easily as she might detransform with a hurried _Spots off!_

Soon enough, she is standing on the platform feeling very naked and vulnerable, like she just bared her soul for a _movie audition_ , of all things. These people… they just experienced a rare glimpse of who Marinette truly is.

These people, who are staring at her as if she just grew a second head.

Was her performance truly that awful?

Marinette searches for Alya, Adrien, and Chloe among the auditioners and the casting panelists. They’re all slack-jawed, their eyes glued to her face. What’s going on, she wonders? What are they thinking?

And then, the casting director rises to her feet, clapping slowly but loudly. The sound echoes in the silence.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the casting director announces, extending a hand toward Marinette, “I believe we just found our Ladybug!”


	2. Dramatic Irony & Convenient Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some regrettable casting decisions have been made, and now, Tikki has no choice but to break the fourth wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have not seen the English dub of the show, there is a scene in the episode "Lady Wifi" where Chat Noir randomly yells out, _"How now brown cow?"_ If you doubt me, look up the transcript [here](http://miraculousladybug.wikia.com/wiki/Lady_Wifi/Transcript).
> 
> There is no discernable reason for him to say those words. The phrase, according to Wikipedia, is “used in elocution teaching to demonstrate rounded vowel sounds,” which means that it literally has no place in that scene. Sometimes it can be interpreted as meaning "What's next?" or "What's up?", but like... why, out of all the phrases out there, was that the one that the showrunners chose? 
> 
> Needless to say, I think about the ‘how now brown cow’ incident every goddamn day. Every. Goddamn. Day. 
> 
> So please keep it in mind, as it will come up again.

“ _It’s official—the long-awaited Ladybug and Chat Noir movie has cast its two leads!_ ” Alya’s blog post reads. “ _This fall, Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste will leap onto the big screen as Paris’s favorite superheroes!_ ”

There are too many words there, Marinette thinks, none of which make sense. They’re nonsense. Utter nonsense!

Marinette? Ladybug? Adrien? Chat Noir? Big Screen?

Marinette bangs her head against the desk for what may be the twentieth time.

Oh god.

Oh _godddd_.

How did she get here? How could she have let this happen? This is her life, for God’s sake, not a silly children’s cartoon! She can’t play Ladybug when she _is_ Ladybug. Beyond being totally unfair to the hopeful actresses out there, her casting is a serious risk to the secret identity she has worked so hard to maintain.

Chat, wherever he may be, will probably take one look at the movie and realize the truth. What then? He’ll probably flirt with her in real life too! Marinette can’t deal with that!

Okay, admittedly that wouldn’t be so bad, but _still_. It’s the nonsensical principle of the thing.

And what about Hawk Moth? It’s not like he spends all his time in a dark observatory somewhere, right? There’s a good chance he’ll go out and see the movie too—and come after her. Or worse… he’ll come after Marinette’s loved ones!

Or, he’ll come after the loved ones that haven’t been Akumatized before. Which is like… three people. But once again, it’s a matter of principle. Marinette has to adhere to the laws of the superheroic archetype, dammit! And she can’t do that while playing her own alter ego in a movie.

It’s such a blur, how she even agreed to the role. It’s like her memories are a series of short, expositional vignettes written by a lazy author. She vaguely remembers the casting director’s applause, and then being told to call her parents with the news. Chloe had been trying to splutter out an incomprehensible insult. Alya had been shaking her head and blinking, as if trying to wake herself from a strange daydream. And Adrien… Adrien was staring at her in wonderment, jaw still dropped, as she pulled out her phone and numbly informed her parents that she would be playing Ladybug.

There was too much pressure and Marinette couldn’t think clearly.

Her mother and father came to the studio somewhat shocked but utterly ecstatic for her, and didn’t even think to ask her before signing the contract. From that point forward, her name was officially attached to the project. Her parents had assumed it was what she wanted. After all, who actively auditions for a role that they don’t want? Who actively auditions to play _themselves_ in a movie?

Marinette. Stupid, dumb Marinette. That’s who.

The same Marinette who is again preparing to slam her head into the desk when Tikki intervenes, just managing to place herself between Marinette’s forehead and the desktop.

“Alright, Marinette—maybe we should calm down?” Tikki suggests, acting as a buffer between Marinette and a potential concussion.

“What… is… calm?”

“You’re going to give yourself a bruise.”

“Well,” Marinette contemplates, eyes crossing as she stares at Tikki’s spot beneath her forehead, “maybe… if I hit my head _really hard_ , I’ll become smart enough to figure a way out of this situation.”

The little Kwami lets out a small noise of disagreement. “I don’t think head injuries work that way.”

Effectively dissuaded, Marinette groans and straightens slowly, leaning her head on her palm. “What am I going to do, Tikki? I look like Ladybug! I act like Ladybug! I _am_ Ladybug! Taking this role is going to be secret identity suicide!”

Tikki stares up at her with earnest concern. “Can’t you back out?”

“Not anymore. My parents signed a contract for me. I’m tied to this role.”

“Then… maybe just play the part really badly? That way, no one will suspect you.”

“What, and humiliate myself in front of everyone? In front of _Adrien_?” Marinette gulps and shakes her head. “No way! I’d rather die.”

Which she might, considering the whole _identity reveal_ and _Hawk Moth_ thing. Her priorities are skewed, certainly, but they are admirably well-defined.

Despondent, Marinette then rolls out of her chair and lies face-down on the floor. “I’m stuck, Tikki,” she moans. “Totally stuck. How could I have done this to myself? Humiliating Chloe isn’t worth ruining my own life.”

“Oh Marinette,” Tikki sighs, flying from the desk to nuzzle Marinette’s cheek. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“How?”

“Well, it’s a widely accepted fact,” Tikki begins, “that people in your world are very, very obtuse.”

Marinette, who is still lying on the carpet, turns to squint at her Kwami in bafflement. “What do you mean, ‘my’ world?”

“Beside the point!” Tikki squeaks. “What I’m saying is, even if you play yourself to perfection, no one will assume that you’re actually Ladybug. If anything, they’ll just think you’re a good actress.”

“Why?”

“Sweet, sweet dramatic irony?” Tikki offers casually.

“What?” Marinette demands, rubbing her temples. “What do literary devices have to do with any of this?”

Tikki just sighs and floats back up to the desk. With some difficulty, she manages to push a large stack of papers off the countertop, causing them to topple onto the floor beside Marinette.

“If you’re going to play the role, you’ll need to read the script. Being Ladybug will only get you so far.”

With another moan, Marinette blindly moves her hand along the carpet until she finds the packet and holds it over her face. She then begins to flip through the pages, reading and skimming her lines haphazardly.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

As far as Tikki can tell, Marinette still seems upset, but she’s a lot calmer than before. Tikki considers that a personal accomplishment.

Until Marinette jumps to her feet and absolutely _screams._

“What’s going on?!” Tikki screams back, her surprise causing her to rise a literal foot in the air. She flits around the room frantically, searching for the object of Marinette’s concern.

Marinette doesn’t answer. She just keeps staring at the script—at a certain page, in particular.

“Everything alright up there, _Ladybug_?” Marinette’s mother calls up the stairs, voice muffled by the closed door. Ever since the casting, Sabine Cheng has adopted the habit of referring to her daughter by her movie role. “I heard a scream.”

“F-fine!” Marinette yells back, finally coming to her senses but still holding the script with shaking hands. “Totally fine! Nothing to worry about! I’m just…” She searches for a suitable explanation for such a loud overreaction. “...acting?”

“Oh, of course!” Sabine laughs, voice fading as she walks away. “Keep up the good work, then!”

After waiting a few seconds to ensure that Sabine is out of earshot, Tikki hisses, “Marinette, what’s wrong?”

“ _What’s wrong?_ ” Marinette repeats hysterically as she flings the packet toward Tikki to read. “What’s wrong… is that Ladybug has to _kiss_ Chat Noir!”

There’s a short pause.

“And this is bad because...?” Tikki finally replies, seeming completely unsurprised. “I thought you wanted to kiss Adrien.”

“I do,” Marinette admits with a slight blush. “I really, really do. But the implications of this are… unthinkable. I can’t have Chat—or the world, for that matter—believing that Ladybug and Chat Noir are a couple! It’s a lie!”

“So let me get this straight,” Tikki sighs. “You want to kiss Adrien, but you’re morally opposed to kissing him as Chat?”

“Yes! I mean, come on, Tikki. This isn’t rocket science!”

Tikki opens her mouth, about to say something, but then thinks better of it. She’d need the energy of a thousand cookies to even start.

Marinette grabs proper hold of the script again, scrutinizing the supposedly terrible scene where Ladybug kisses Chat Noir. “I’m not even kissing him because of Dark Cupid here! I’m just… kissing him. What are these writers thinking? Chat and I don’t even _have_ chemistry.”

Tikki won’t even _touch_ that comment with a fifty-foot stick. Instead, she remarks, “It could be worse. It could be bad fanfiction.”

Marinette moans once more in frustration, dismissively tossing the script onto her bed.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

_“Can you believe that they cast that little nobody as Ladybug? I mean, was the casting director totally blind and deaf? A dog could give a better performance!_ ” Chloe rages over the phone, and Adrien winces at her volume. To preserve his hearing, he is forced to hold the phone a short distance from his ear.

At the earliest pause in her rant, Adrien chimes in somewhat indignantly, “I really didn’t think Marinette was that bad.”

“ _Oh?_ ” Chloe seems offended by the very thought. He can almost picture her placing her hands on her hips and haughtily turning up her nose.

But Adrien doesn’t care what she thinks. He can recall Marinette’s performance perfectly for himself—it was too memorable to forget even the smallest details.

When Marinette mounted that platform and started reading that script, she transformed before his eyes into his beloved Ladybug. Every word, every intonation, every slight movement _screamed_ that she was his Lady. She was enveloped in a halo of confidence, power, and compassion that could only belong to Ladybug’s personality. The same personality that all the other actresses had so horribly misunderstood.

But Marinette assumed those traits perfectly.

Even beyond that, Adrien knows the script. He knows the exact scene in the movie, the one that Marinette and the other actresses were given, which means that he noticed the parts she improvised. But the lines that she added were just as good, if not better, than the ones the screenwriters had produced. He could easily imagine Ladybug saying those things.

As far as Adrien was concerned, the Marinette on that platform _was_ Ladybug. And it made his heart ache.

Eventually, though, the scene ended, and her facade fell away. She was back to being regular Marinette.

Marinette, who was, incidentally, the best Ladybug _actress_ Adrien had ever seen! He agrees wholeheartedly with the casting director’s decision. Short of Ladybug herself, there probably isn’t a better fit for the role to be found.

“In fact,” Adrien continues into the phone, “I think she’ll make an amazing Ladybug.”

“ _I’m sure Ladybug disagrees_ ,” Chloe huffs. “ _Poor thing! I can’t imagine what it’s like to have someone as_ inept _as Marinette representing me_ . _Ladybug deserves better._ ”

Given what Adrien knows about Ladybug, she’ll probably be relieved that it’s Marinette and not some brainless movie star.

“I’m sure Ladybug won’t mind.”

Chloe then makes a pitying sort of noise. “ _And you, Adrien! I’m so sorry for you too! There’s all those rumors about how you’ll have to kiss her_ …”

Adrien rolls his eyes. Out of all the girls that he could have been assigned to kiss, Marinette would probably be one of his top choices. She’s one of the kindest people he knows, and though Adrien knows that it’s not the most important thing, she’s pretty beautiful as well.

It’s just that… well… Adrien has a top choice. A top choice who, unfortunately for him, is utterly unattainable and disinterested in him.

So what if he can’t kiss Ladybug? That doesn’t mean kissing Marinette will be a chore.

“Thanks for the concern, Chloe, but I think I’ll be okay,” Adrien tells her with exasperation. “In fact, I’ve got to go. Marinette and I probably need to find a time to rehearse our lines.”

“ _What_ ?” Chloe demands. “ _Wait a second, Adrien_ —”

He feels the oddest sense of satisfaction when he hangs up the phone.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Alya _knows_ Marinette. She knows her best friend better than anyone.

Or at least she thought she did. Because never in a thousand years would she imagine Marinette acting like that—acting like Ladybug had momentarily possessed her body.

Maybe she just underestimated her acting abilities. Maybe Marinette knows more about Ladybug than Alya ever gave her credit for.

But Marinette has never been Akumatized. And Ladybug always battles the Akumas when Marinette _isn’t_ there.

What if Marinette is…?

Alya stops that ridiculous thought cold. There’s just _no way_. Ladybug wouldn’t be stupid enough to audition to play herself! Of all the ridiculous ways for a superhero to reveal their secret identity…

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

Lunch breaks, these days, are synonymous with practice sessions.

Marinette’s parents and Adrien’s father insisted that they continue their schooling throughout the movie’s production. As their schedules grew more cluttered and difficult to balance, she and Adrien decided to save time by rehearsing their lines during the hour-long lunch break at school.

Lately, they’ve been rehearsing in the park—hiding in plain sight. And most of the time, they’re pretty focused on their acting. But they also spend their fair share of time just talking, which Marinette _loves_.

They’ve grown so much closer. Closer than Marinette imagined she could be with Adrien, and she suspects that it’s all attributable to one very strange mental exercise:

Marinette pretends that Adrien is Chat Noir.

As long as she does that, all of her stuttering nervousness disappears. Instead, Marinette becomes as confident, humorous, and intelligent as she _knows_ she can be. She makes Adrien laugh. Makes Adrien blush. Makes Adrien realize that she’s more than just a stammering mess of a human being.

It is so, so _satisfying_!

So what if she has to imagine him in a leather catsuit all the time to form coherent sentences around him? She’ll make that sacrifice for love.

It’s also great to have Adrien around as she learns to navigate fame. Ever since her casting, Marinette has become something of a public figure. She’s a “newly introduced” actress, sure, but her role is so popular that people all over Paris have flocked to her, asking for interviews or beauty advice or autographs.

The first time she experienced such things, Adrien shot her a knowing sort of smile and said, “It’s not exactly fun, but you’ll get used to it.”

Marinette doesn’t like being famous… but she _could_ get used to Adrien’s knowing smiles.

The way Alya put it, Marinette and Adrien are “teen idols” now. And somehow, they’ve bonded over that.

“Okay, we’re at that part of the script,” Adrien says, staring down at his packet. He’s sitting beside her on the park bench, his knee touching hers. The sunlight, she notices, makes his hair appear to glow, and there’s a tinge of pink in his cheeks that Marinette positively _cannot get over_.

“I don’t know how you want to go about this,” he continues somewhat sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

God, he’s so cute.

But Marinette can't repeat the mistakes of the past. So she takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and wills herself to see Chat—not Adrien.

_Think black leather. Think bad puns. Think cheshire-cat grins._

Sure enough, when Marinette opens her eyes, she has replaced Adrien’s supermodel good looks with Chat’s masked visage. The change works as mysteriously well as it usually does, effectively allowing her to regain her senses and her ability to speak.

Thus, Marinette flips the page and realizes what he was talking about. _That part._ The kissing scene. Up until this point, they have pointedly avoided it, and she doesn’t know if she should be excited or annoyed that they’re finally addressing it.

She’s excited to be kissing Adrien, perhaps (even if she must imagine that he’s Chat Noir to do so). But she’s also still annoyed that the writers have forced this romantic subplot into Ladybug’s _totally platonic_ relationship with Chat.

“Doesn’t this seem this kind of weird to you?” Marinette asks, skimming through the two-page description of her kiss with Chat Noir.

“What do you mean?” Chat— _no_ , Adrien—replies.

“I don’t know,” Marinette says. “I guess I just never pictured Ladybug and Chat as a couple. They always struck me as friends, you know?”

At that, Adrien’s posture stiffens noticeably, and he is silent for a few seconds. The quiet stretches for so long that Marinette wonders if she has said something offensive, though she can’t fathom how her comment could have been misinterpreted.

It’s several more seconds before he speaks his mind, and when he does, he says his piece with surprising vehemence.

“Sorry, Marinette, but I totally disagree. Ladybug and Chat Noir are clearly soulmates. You can ask anyone—they’ll tell you the same thing.”

_Whoa_. Marinette never took Adrien as a Ladybug/Chat Noir shipper. What do all those people on social media call it? LadyNoir or something?

She anticipates that this will make things awkward if she eventually marries Adrien and reveals her secret. There’s no harm, Marinette figures, in rectifying this terrible misconception sooner rather than later. Really, she’s doing him a favor.  

“As someone who qualifies as ‘anyone,’” Marinette scoffs. “I’m telling you, they’re just friends!”

“Oh, come on,” Adrien protests, throwing an arm in the air. “Have you seen the way those two look at each other?”

Marinette raises a dubious eyebrow. “Have you?”

“Uh.” Adrien glances around nervously. “Once or twice, maybe…”

“Oh, really? I bet you’ve never seen them both in the same room,” Marinette challenges, poking Chat— _no_ , Adrien—in the chest.

(Okay, technically neither has she, but she has a good excuse considering that she _is_ Ladybug. But what’s Adrien’s excuse for making these claims? Nothing! He has none!)

“I, on the other hand,” Marinette continues, casually using her script as a fan, “have spoken to Ladybug before, and when I did, she didn’t seem all too romantically interested in Chat Noir.”

If Adrien were Chat Noir—which he isn’t—Marinette could swear that his ears just drooped.

“Did she… did she say something about it?” Adrien asks softly. He sounds so genuinely concerned that Marinette is actually taken aback. “Did she actually say that she doesn’t have feelings for him?”

Marinette blinks and manages, “Well, not in those exact words, but there was a strong implication—”

Quite unexpectedly, Adrien lets out a hopeless sigh and drops his head in his hands. He looks absolutely heartbroken. Really, that’s the only way that she can describe it. _Heartbroken_. But what could Adrien be so miserable about? It’s not like they’re discussing Adrien’s love life right now. This is about Ladybug and Chat Noir’s relationship, a matter which hardly concerns him at all.

Wow, Marinette realizes finally. This boy is _really_ invested in his ship.

Okay, she really didn’t intend to start an argument with Adrien like this. How was she to know about his… investment in such a fabricated romance? Marinette feels as though regret is piling on top of her Adrien-induced bewilderment. This conversation, she thinks, was a complete mistake, and she needs to move away from it as quickly as possible.

So she instruments a return to their original topic.

With a comforting pat on his shoulder, she suggests, “Why don’t we get on with the kissing scene?”

“I guess,” Adrien murmurs, and it seems to take all of his effort to turn his body toward her. He then raises the script and begins to read, but it’s immediately clear that his enthusiasm has vanished.

“Oh, Ladybug,” he intones, “I cannot think about the possibility of losing you. This is too dangerous, and you are too important to me.”

Alright, it’s a little more robotic than romantic, but Marinette will take anything that she can get.

“What are you saying, Chat?” she reads, glancing up from her script with fake-awe in her eyes.

“What I’m saying is… this.”

Adrien leans in, and Marinette holds her breath. This is it! The kiss that she has been dreaming about _forever_. Nothing could possibly ruin this moment—

Except a camera flash.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Marinette is starting to learn what it’s like to be a famous actress, and so far, she’s not liking this new life one bit.

Only a day after they practiced lines in the park, Marinette and Adrien find themselves plastered all over the tabloids, immortalized while puckering their lips toward one another.

Somehow, a member of the paparazzi had learned that they were on that bench, and promptly snapped a photo of their practice-kiss. Marinette blushes furiously every time she sees the picture (which is a lot, given how many people have asked her to sign their magazine covers), but what humiliates her most is the accompanying headline.

 

**ADRIEN AND MARINETTE - A REAL LIFE LADYBUG AND CHAT NOIR ROMANCE**

 

For some reason, the paparazzi thought it would be clever to draw parallels between Marinette and Adrien’s relationship and the fabled “LadyNoir” romance that seems to plague their characters’ (and secret identities’) reputations. This choice, in Marinette’s opinion, makes absolutely zero sense. Why does everyone think that Ladybug is in love with Chat? Marinette loves Adrien! That’s not even comparable to her friendship with Chat!

There is no real life Ladybug and Chat Noir romance. She would love for there to be Marinette and Adrien romance, sure, but there’s nothing between her and Chat.

Being a “teen idol” sucks, Marinette decides.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Adrien is simultaneously bitter and smug about the paparazzi’s picture. On the one hand, he was pretty miffed about being photographed during a private moment. On the other hand, he totally proved to Marinette that _everyone_ thinks that Ladybug and Chat Noir are a couple.

Now, if only he could convince Ladybug.

Adrien couldn’t help but feel the sting of Marinette’s words. Did Ladybug really reject him so completely? Would she really have said such things to a random civilian?

No. Adrien simply will not believe it. If Ladybug feels that way, she can tell him herself—he won’t accept the news from a secondhand source like Marinette.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

“I don’t remember my costume being this tight,” Marinette complains, desperately trying to stretch the fabric of the red-and-black spotted jumpsuit.

Her official costume test has been terrible thus far. It’s only just now that she has received a moment of privacy for herself, free of the designers and makeup artists who Marinette normally admires. Her admiration, however, is beginning to waver now, considering their rude promise to bring her something _healthy_ to eat upon their return from lunch.

“We can’t risk you bursting that suit!” one of the designers had laughed, and all his co-workers had joined in. “It’s already stretching at the seams, I’m afraid.”

_Jerks,_ Marinette thinks. Honestly, if the real Ladybug can’t fit into this costume, then something’s wrong with the clothes, not their wearer.

With no one around to hear, she finds herself speaking to Tikki—the real expert, if there is one, on the workings of Ladybug’s apparel. The little Kwami floats out of Marinette’s purse and flits around the new costume to examine the cause of Marinette’s distress.

“Your real costume is magic,” Tikki points out. “Of course it’s going to be more comfortable than regular fabrics. Otherwise, with something this tight, you’d split it with every kick or flip!”

Marinette sighs wistfully and gives her movie costume another tug. “Magic sure is convenient.”

Tikki nods sagely. “For you and the showrunners.”

“What?”

“Nothing!”

Ignoring her own displeasure (and Tikki-induced confusion), Marinette stares at her own reflection in a full-body mirror. It’s surprising to see herself like this. She knows that she’s not transformed right now, but in this suit, she might as well be. The designers, as rude as they are, have really done an amazing job in creating her costume. The only difference that Marinette can spot is her makeup, which has been brightened to emphasize her features for the camera.

Nonetheless, beyond the red lipstick and dark mascara, everything else looks exactly the same. It’s an _identical_ Ladybug costume, worn by none other than Ladybug herself.

And yet none of the costume designers or makeup artists have said anything.

Maybe Tikki is right. Maybe the world really is blind to the obvious.

But Marinette still doesn’t understand the thing about dramatic irony, though.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Ever since he met Ladybug, the love of his life, Adrien has been convinced that, in his eyes, only one girl could possibly pull off a red and black spotted jumpsuit.

But then along came Marinette in a Ladybug costume, strolling onto the set after her fitting and looking almost _exactly like_ his Lady.

So now he’s kind of freaking out.

If Ladybug and costumed-Marinette were standing right next to each other, he’d probably have a great deal of trouble telling them apart, with only Marinette’s makeup giving away the truth. Considering those inky pigtails, those gorgeous blue eyes, and that glowing smile … how can he possibly believe that the universe permitted _two_ completely separate, perfect girls to exist at the same time?

It should be a statistical impossibility. But then again, here Marinette is, looking just like Ladybug! Two different girls who look nearly identical in that costume. Who knew?

It’s no wonder that Adrien is swooning at the very sight of her. His face must be roughly the color of a tomato, and the contrast of the black Chat Noir mask probably emphasizes his blush even more.

Adrien’s turmoil does not go unnoticed by Marinette, and her concerned look toward him is so distinctly _Ladybug_ that he nearly keels over, right then and there. How does she pull it off so well? Marinette’s acting talent really is something—

“You okay, Adrien?” she inquires, placing a gentle hand on his arm. He begins to panic as the limb tingles in response to her touch, and he knows that it _shouldn’t,_ because really, he loves Ladybug, and he shouldn’t feel these disloyal emotions just because somebody looks like her.

He exhales heavily. Okay, admittedly, that somebody looks _a lot_ like Ladybug, but Adrien at least tries to maintain some type of romantic standard for himself!

“I’m fine,” he manages. But his voice apparently disagrees, since it chooses to crack on the last word.

Seriously, can he get a hold of his own damn attraction? How can Adrien live with himself if he can’t remain devoted to his Lady?

Who Marinette (with the exception of a bit of makeup) looks exactly like.

And of course, she picks that moment to shoot him a smile, which, apparently, is one of the few things that can cause Adrien to hyperventilate.

He just manages to calm himself as the clapboard clatters shut and the director yells “Action!”

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Alya wanted to kill _that thought—_ the unrealistic one—dead. But her brain, the uncooperative organ that it is, just won’t stop considering it. She just keeps noticing and latching onto things that she knows she shouldn’t.

Marinette and Adrien started filming their scenes a few days ago, and so far, everything has been proceeding perfectly. The crew is ecstatic at their progress and their performances—there’s even been talk of potential award nominations and broken box office records. The movie’s leads, everyone says, have the best chemistry that a movie could ask for, and they play their roles to perfection.

Alya has been given full access to the studio throughout the filming process. The producers were convinced that Marinette would need expert guidance in playing Ladybug, seeing as the character is so beloved by the public. Alya, as the Ladybug expert, was supposed to provide that guidance.

But so far, Marinette hasn’t needed one bit of Alya’s help. As soon as the cameras are on her, Marinette essentially _becomes_ Ladybug, all confidence and optimism and determination. Her pretend-flirting with Chat Noir is so on-point that, after one particularly flirtatious scene, Alya saw a trembling Adrien stumble over to the catering table and down five bottles of water. That poor boy is going to _lose it_ if Marinette doesn’t let up on the Ladybug starpower, and Alya doubts that super-realistic costume is helping his state at all.

Alya doesn’t know if it’s unkind to say that she never thought her best friend had so much Ladybug in her… but it’s the truth.

What bothers her most now, however, is that Alya is starting to see undeniable similarities between the two. Maybe Marinette doesn’t just share some of Ladybug’s personality traits. Maybe Marinette really _is_ Ladybug.

Alya is standing by the catering table, snacking and watching Adrien and Marinette’s newest scene. Marinette throws the prop version of Ladybug’s magic yo-yo, and Alya is stricken by the natural dexterity with which she completes the move. It’s not like “magic yo-yo-ing” skills are a common area of expertise, and yet, Alya bets that Marinette rivals Ladybug in that particular playing field.

Unless Marinette _is_ Ladybug. Which seems like a more and more likely prospect by the day.

The next scene involves Marinette yelling “Lucky Charm!” at the top of her lungs, and it sounds so realistic to Alya that she jumps and drops the apple in her hands. It falls onto the floor and rolls beneath the tablecloth, where she cannot easily retrieve it. With a sigh, Alya drops to her knees and pulls aside the fabric—

To find _Simone and Remi Duval_?

Before Alya can yell for help, they cover her mouth with their hands and pull her beneath the table with them, effectively hiding her from view.

“Please don’t freak out!” Simone whispers. “We’re not here to cause trouble! We promise!”

Alya somehow doubts that, given Simone’s tantrum during their audition. She struggles against their grasp, neck bent uncomfortably against the low undersurface of the table.

Yup, it’s definitely the Duvals under here with her. Who else would wear red hair ribbons and cat ears _all the time_?

“Please—we’re just really big Ladybug and Chat Noir fans,” Remi continues in a low voice, possibly the deepest voice she’s ever heard. She’s so stunned to hear him speak that she doesn’t think to scream when they both remove their hands.

“Look, we know we were jerks at the audition,” Simone admits. “But we’re still super excited for this movie, and we’re desperate to be a part of it.”

“Even if that means hiding under a table,” Remi adds.

Simone nods in agreement and parrots, “Even if that means hiding under a table.”

“We’ll do anything to stay on set. Seriously, anything. You name it.”

Alya squints at them, contemplating. “I don’t know…”

“Please!” they both beg at the same time.

God, Alya hates situations like this. A part of her still wants them to be caught, but another part of Alya sees how earnest they are—how badly they just want to see Ladybug and Chat Noir get the representation they deserve. How different are Simone and Remi, exactly, from Alya, who constantly bends rules to get stories for her Ladyblog?

“I was wrong,” Simone tells her. “Your friends—Marinette and Adrien. They’re really good for the parts. Perfect, actually.”

_Yeah_ , Alya thinks. _A little too perfect_.

But the compliment is enough to make up her mind.

With a sigh, Alya grabs hold of her lost apple and tells the siblings, “I won’t let anyone know that you’re here, but you better stay quiet and out of sight. If the producers catch you, they will throw you out.”

After that, Alya removes herself from beneath the tablecloth, rubbing the dirtied apple on her shirt. As she stands, she sees a PA watching her emergence from beneath the table with some suspicion.

“Lost my apple,” she tells him with a nervous smile.

On the set, Marinette follows the script and kisses Adrien on the cheek after his character narrowly saves hers. What’s not in the script, however, is the way that Adrien trips shortly thereafter, and lands flat on his face. There are no visible injuries, thankfully, so the crew breathes a sigh of relief.

Alya narrows her eyes. A few weeks ago, Marinette couldn’t even speak to Adrien without flailing around. Now, she’s effortlessly turning Adrien into a puddle of goo? It doesn’t add up.

Marinette must be hiding something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> However much you screamed while reading this chapter, I promise you, I screamed more while writing it. 
> 
> Please kudos/comment if you liked it because uhhh i need to validate the entire week i devoted to writing this ridiculous concept
> 
> [my tumblr](https://the-jedi.tumblr.com/)


	3. Cheap Dialogue & A Cheesy Storyline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our intrepid heroine accidentally makes Chat Noir’s day, and lies even when it’s more logical to tell the truth.
> 
> Oh, and did we mention the dramatic irony?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, but the next chapter is really, really long so bear with me. 
> 
> Also, I got a bit angsty for a few paragraphs, so I apologize if this fic seems serious for more than three seconds. 
> 
> And as for the occasionally malformed chapter titles, SCREW PARALLELISM

Lately, Marinette has been so overwhelmed with filming the movie and playing Ladybug that, somehow, she has forgotten to devote time to actually  _ being _ Ladybug. 

With her memory dominated by all her hours on set with Adrien, she can’t even recall the last time she saw Chat in person. (And it’d be dishonest to say that she doesn’t miss that mangy cat at least a little bit).

Not to mention that Hawk Moth and his Akumas have been eerily quiet. In fact, the Garbage King battle was the last time she cleansed one of his nefarious little butterflies, and since then, Ladybug simply hasn’t been needed. 

But Hawk Moth’s inactivity is starting to make her nervous. What is he waiting for, she wonders? Does he have some sort of bigger plan in the works? Is he saving his attacks for something more sinister than ever, something like...

… an exciting storytelling climax, perhaps? 

But, of course, such a notion is utterly absurd. Marinette’s life is far more complex than a predictable five-stage story structure. 

Right? 

Regardless of Hawk Moth’s scheming, Marinette decides that she is long past due for a reunion with Chat. The first night she gets the chance, she uses her magic yo-yo to send him a message and hopes that he will receive it in time. It’s impossible to know whether Chat will happen to transform tonight and see the notification—but once again, she can hope. 

Marinette tells her parents that she’ll be studying her lines for the rest of the night, and would prefer to remain undisturbed. It’s not until they agree and the bedroom door is shut tight that Marinette transforms— _ really _ transforms—for the first time in weeks. 

Before entering the film industry, Marinette never knew that she took her suit’s magic fabric for granted. And it really is magical, how comfortable the real, non-spandex Ladybug costume is compared to the one she wears each day on the movie set. 

Eagerly leaving her mundane civilian identity behind, Ladybug slips out the trapdoor and swings to the Eiffel Tower—the meeting location she sent to Chat. 

There was no need for her to worry, she realizes, since she arrives to find him already there, lithely perched on the Tower’s highest platform. As she lands, he immediately greets her with a grin, a small bow, and a teasing, “ _ My Lady _ .” It’s all so routine that Ladybug inexplicably feels at ease. The changes of the last few weeks have left her head spinning, but Chat’s predictable behavior seems to anchor her, even if just for a moment. 

“Hi, Chat,” she replies with a smile. Ladybug then attaches her yo-yo to her waist and approaches the spot beside him. “It’s been a while.”

“That’s an understatement, I’m sure,” he remarks casually, and she can already detect the flirt in his voice. “You’ve probably been absolutely miserable without me in your life. You know, some people say that I’m like a drug.”

“Because you cause an array of negative side effects?” Ladybug offers, hoping to stop this conversation before it reaches its inevitably corny destination. 

“No. Because I’m  _ addicting _ , my poor Lady,” he laments melodramatically. “You must have suffered from Chat Noir withdrawal symptoms for so long—”

“Funnily enough, I think I’m suffering more right now than I did during our time apart.”

He sniffs with mock offense. “You know, you really wound me sometimes.”

“Are you done with your nonsense yet?” Ladybug asks with a consoling pat to his cheek. “Because I’d like to move on with our lives.” 

There is a pause in which he doesn’t answer, and her hand is still placed against his cheek. The distant lights of the city are winking at her, glinting off his sleek black suit and highlighting the strands of his messy blonde hair. This moment, she thinks, has the oddest stillness to it, like the whole world is a switchboard, and she and Chat are the only two things turned on.

Wait, no, that’s definitely  _ not _ the right way to describe—

“I really did miss you,” Chat blurts suddenly, interrupting Ladybug’s train of thought. His tone is startling in the way it contains nothing teasing, and nothing flirtatious. There’s just a sincerity so genuine and intimidating that his words seem to echo in her ears and lodge themselves in her heart. 

She drops her hand from his cheek a bit too quickly, if not guiltily.

“I, uh, missed you too, kitty.” 

“It’s a little ridiculous, don’t you think?” he asks, but there’s a real edge of hurt in his voice this time. “That we need to fight an Akuma to spend time together?” 

“Well, I called you here tonight, didn’t I?” She raises her arms, gesturing to Paris and the world at large. With the height of the Eiffel Tower and the brisk clarity of the night air, the entire city appears open to them. “And there’s not an Akuma in sight.”

“Well, aren’t we  _ lucky _ , then?” Chat observes pointedly, leaning over her with yet another Cheshire-cat grin. “And by we, of course, I mean you.”

And there is the pun that she has been waiting for. 

It’s even worse than usual.

 

 · • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Ladybug always feels the strongest urge to confide in Chat, and this impulse is not without reason. Alya may be Marinette’s best friend, but Chat is undoubtedly Ladybug’s. 

There are times when Marinette needs to feel like a regular teenage girl. And when that happens, Alya is usually the only one who can bring her back to Planet Earth. Alya keeps her focused, keeps her calm. Alya reminds her that she has responsibilities to herself as well as to the city. 

But there’s also something truly unique about what she shares with Chat. If Alya keeps Marinette grounded, Chat raises Ladybug to new heights. No matter what she does, no matter the severity of her mistakes, he always supports her. That kind of trust… it makes her feel powerful. Makes her feel strong and smart and like she’s  _ more _ than just a silly teenage girl. 

But no matter how much Alya and Chat mean to her, they’ll never really know her. Not entirely. She keeps the superhero and civilian sides of her life too separate to be reconciled. 

But Chat is right here, and the truth is on the tip of her tongue. In this moment, the temptation of having a confidant is almost too strong for her to bear. 

It’s just… she wants _ so badly _ to tell him about her role in the new movie, about the ridiculous circumstances of her audition, about the absurdity of the plotline, about how unfair it is that her movie counterpart gets to defeat Hawk Moth while she doesn’t. She would complain to him about her new costume, about her newfound fame, and obviously, she’d complain about the fact that the whole world wrongly believes that they’re a couple. 

But… they both have secret identities to maintain, and speaking of such things would assuredly reveal Ladybug’s. She will not risk this moment, and she will not risk the truth. Not right now. 

This peaceful night is an unlikely blessing, and Paris’s “favorite superheroes,” as Alya calls them, are taking full advantage of it. Together, they lean over the highest railing, conversing quietly but comfortably as they gaze at the glimmering world before them. Chat’s shoulder is pressed up against Ladybug’s, and for once, she doesn’t move away or tease him about it. She just wants to sit here with him, where everything is so preciously and momentarily peaceful. 

They talk about a great many things, but she keeps sensing the topic of the movie in her periphery. It’s been all over the news—it’s about  _ them _ , for God’s sake —so he must be wondering about it in some way. Does he remember meeting Marinette? Did he find her casting surprising? Has it made him suspicious of the truth?

Curiosity overwhelms her. Which, she remarks internally, is rather ironic, considering that he’s the one dressed as a cat right now. 

“So…” she says slowly, tapping her fingers arrhythmically against the metal railing, “Have you been paying attention to the  _ Ladybug and Chat Noir  _ movie?”

Chat snorts. “ _ Paying attention _ is one way to put it. I feel like I’m being held prisoner by that stupid movie.”

It’s funny, Ladybug thinks, how strongly she shares that exact sentiment. 

He’s tense as he turns his back to the city, elbows balancing atop the railing. Ladybug, meanwhile, tries to ignore that fact that their shoulders are no longer touching, but a strange part of her mourns that small loss of contact.

“It’s like they’ve made our lives into a dumb joke,” he mutters bitterly. “You and I—we’re bigger than that. We’re bigger than cheap dialogue and a cheesy storyline.” 

He’s bigger than that, maybe. But is she? 

There’s no stopping the shame that colors Ladybug’s cheeks. She didn’t know he was so opposed to the film. What would he think, she wonders, if he knew that she was playing the lead in the very movie he has learned to hate? Would he consider her a sell-out? Would he resent her belittlement of everything they’ve done together? 

“Yeah, well, I think that Adrien kid is kind of cute,” Ladybug jokes nervously, trying to make light of the situation. “I wouldn’t mind having him as my partner for a little while.”

She anticipates some lighthearted teasing in response, or even a little well-meaning jealousy. But Chat behaves unexpectedly and completely  _ blanches _ at her words. Despite the mask covering his face, she can see his shock… see how deeply her words have affected him.

The one thing she can’t pinpoint, however, is whether his shock stems from hurt or something else entirely. Because if she didn’t know better, she’d say that was  _ triumph _ forming in his eyes.

But why would her comment about Adrien Agreste make Chat, of all people, feel triumphant?

She is about to ask him about it when he clears his throat and removes his weight from the railing. Judging by his expression, it seems like he has recovered his composure, but she suspects that whatever shock he just felt is not yet gone. If anything, it’s just better hidden. 

“Yeah, well… that Marinette girl is pretty cute too,” he counters smoothly. “Maybe I should ask  _ her _ to take up the Ladybug Miraculous instead.”

_ No need to ask _ , Marinette thinks smugly, brushing a hand against her earrings.  _ I’ve already got it covered. _

 

 · • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Marinette has snuck into her bedroom a million times before, and it’s always a somewhat predictable routine. Her parents never hear her as she lands lightly on the roof, ducks beneath the trapdoor, and descends the stairs.

Even among the ranks of unruly teenagers out there, Marinette considers herself quite skilled in the art of sneaking in and out of her house. Some might say she has even perfected the process. 

But usually, this process does not have an audience. 

Marinette has just entered her bedroom, and she’s about to let her transformation fall away when she hears someone else gasp. The sound is so unexpected that her entire mind goes blank. She’s only aware of the raw, icy fear coursing through her veins, and a single horrifying thought: 

Someone else is in her room.

She whirls around to locate the intruder—Hawk Moth or an Akumatized villain, perhaps—but instead she finds a wide-eyed Alya sitting at her desk, looking just as stunned as Marinette feels. 

Crap. 

“Oh my god,” Alya murmurs. She grips the desk chair so tightly that her knuckles appear white. “Oh my god. You’re—”

Marinette surges forward and covers Alya’s mouth with her hand, unceremoniously cutting off the revelation. There’s a decidedly indignant  _ Mmph!  _ against Marinette’s gloved palm. 

“I can explain!” Marinette whispers fiercely, crouching in front of her best friend. “Really, I can!”

Alya jerks her head, forcing Marinette to release her hold. “Yeah, so can I!” she retorts with her reclaimed ability to speak. “You’re Ladybug, Marinette!”

Marinette had entertained the small hope that Alya wouldn’t make the connection, but she knew from the beginning that it was unrealistic. Honestly, what was Alya supposed to think when she found Marinette missing from her own bedroom, and saw Ladybug strolling in like she owns the place? Alya isn’t stupid. 

But Marinette is too drained and shocked to even think clearly about the situation. Maybe if she wasn’t so exhausted, or so high-strung from filming and everything else, she would recognize that Alya’s discovery could be a blessing in disguise. The secret is out of her hands now—she doesn’t need to lie anymore! And isn’t that what she wanted? A confidant? Marinette doesn’t doubt that Alya would forgive her secrecy. 

But Marinette is overtired and accustomed to lying. So she does what’s natural, especially given the way she spends her time lately. 

She plays pretend. 

“No, I’m not!” she insists. “Listen, Alya, I know what this looks like.” 

“Really? Because to me, it looks like you’re secretly a superhero.”

“Yes,” Marinette agrees quickly, “but that’s just what it  _ looks _ like.”

“I don’t think so, Marinette.” Alya rubs her temples. “Jeez, this is crazy. Your parents let me upstairs so I could help you with your acting. But I guess you don’t need much help, considering that you  _ are _ your role. ” 

“I’m telling you, Alya, you’ve got the situation all wrong!” Marinette protests desperately. “Do you really think I could’ve hidden being a superhero from you for this long? I can barely wake up for school on time, let alone save all of Paris!”

“Don’t you even start!” Alya says angrily, jabbing an accusing finger at Marinette. “It’s all so obvious, I can’t believe I never realized...”

She begins to list off her proof. “You’ve never been Akumatized, you always disappear and make excuses, and your Ladybug acting skills are scary good. Plus, you just came down from the roof in a Ladybug costume.” She shakes her head. “Sorry, girl, you can give all the excuses you want. But I’m not buying them.”

Well, Marinette will just have to give better excuses, then. 

_ Think,  _ she urges herself _. Think.  _

“Alya, I’ve never been Akumatized because we all know that Chloe causes, like, 99.9 percent of Akuma attacks,” Marinette fabricates quickly. “And I don’t let her get to me.” 

_ Except when it counts,  _ Marinette admits to herself, remembering how thoughtlessly she auditioned for the movie, just to prove Chloe wrong. 

Alya’s eyes narrow. “And what about your disappearances?”

Marinette sighs as if she is about reveal something humiliating. “Well, I might… spend more time than I should following Adrien around.”

“Yeah,” Alya scoffs. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Oh, Marinette is definitely going to regret this one. But… if she’s digging her own grave, she figures that she might as well make it a deep one. 

“No, Alya, you don’t understand. Not entirely,” she lies, faking acute embarrassment. “Sometimes I go out at night and just stand outside his house. Sometimes, instead of going to class, I just hide behind columns and watch him. I’ve even been collecting DNA samples—”

Alya’s eyes widen. “Dear Lord, Marinette,” she inhales sharply. “You need help.”

“It’s gotten better,” Marinette says with a melodramatic sniff. “Now that I’ve spent more time with him, I’ve learned the error of my ways. But in the past, I just…” She puts her head in her hands. “I couldn’t expose  _ you _ to all the lies and the shame—”

“Alright, alright, stop!” Alya interrupts, making a  _ time-out _ motion with her hands. “This still doesn’t explain your acting skills, or why you snuck into your bedroom wearing a Ladybug costume!” 

“Oh, that’s easy,” Marinette claims, waving her hand to indicate the simplicity of the situation. “I’ve, uh… been method acting. You know, to get into character.”

Alya blinks and repeats, “Method acting?”

“Yup,” Marinette confirms. “Method acting.”

There’s a pause before Alya speaks again. 

“What the heck does that even mean?”

“It means that, in order to play Ladybug,” Marinette gives a lengthy gesture to herself, “I’ve had to  _ become _ Ladybug.” 

“Okay, Marinette,” Alya says, seeming exasperated. “You are literally not making sense.”

“Look,” Marinette insists. “Ladybug is an extremely complex and beloved public figure, and I’d let everyone down if I did a bad portrayal.”

Alya is still staring blankly at her, uncomprehending. 

“Thus, the only way to ensure that I’m doing a good job,” Marinette continues matter-of-factly, “is to completely immerse myself in the character.”

Alya’s expression is dubious. “And that involves dressing up like Ladybug before bed?” 

“Well, yes, but there’s more to it than that. To fully get into character, I go out each night in my costume and do the activities that Ladybug does so well. You know, things like yo-yo-ing, jumping over rooftops, acrobatics—the works.”

“There’s no way you can just suddenly learn to do things like acrobatics.”

“Well,” Marinette begins with a light tap to her lower lip, “Ladybug may have given me one or two pointers.”

Alya leans forward in excitement. “Wait, you’ve actually  _ worked _ with Ladybug?” 

It seems unlikely, but if that reaction is any indication, there might actually be some hope for Marinette and her excuses. This might not be a pointless exercise after all. 

“Well, at first she tried to stop me because she thought I was impersonating her,” Marinette says with a nervous laugh. “But then she realized who I am and wanted to make sure I didn’t screw up my role. Honestly, I couldn’t have done it without her help. I mean, how many girls can say they’ve been taught to yo-yo by Ladybug herself?” 

It’s not convincing at all, but that’s the best set of excuses Marinette can muster at the moment. With nothing else to say, she looks to Alya, hoping that she hasn’t failed miserably. It’s no surprise that her best friend doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, Alya just stares at the carpet and appears contemplative. 

Time ticks away in the silence, and it’s terrible. It’s terrible that she wants her best friend to believe a lie so badly. 

And believe it, Alya does. 

“I’ve been such an idiot,” Alya concludes finally, smacking herself in the forehead. “Of course you were just pretending to be Ladybug. I mean, Ladybug would never be stupid enough to play herself in a movie! She has a secret identity to protect.” 

Yes, she does, and Marinette suppresses an enormous sigh of relief for that exact reason. It’s almost inconceivable that Alya bought even one of those excuses, let alone all three. 

_ Method acting? Seriously, Alya? You believed that?  _

And yet, Alya appears contrite as she places a reassuring hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “I should’ve had more faith in you, Marinette. You’re just so talented… and I guess I assumed you had to be cheating to play Ladybug so well.” 

“Okay,” Marinette adds with feigned guilt, laying it on thick. “I’ll admit that having Ladybug’s help is cheating  _ a little _ .”

“No way!” Alya tells her with a smile, rising from the desk chair. “It just shows how resourceful you are. In fact, could you invite Ladybug over sometime? It’d be freaking amazing to interview her about her opinions on the movie--”

“Uh, well, she really didn’t want me to tell anyone that she’s helping me—”

“Right, right!” Alya says quickly, pantomiming a zipper across her mouth. “Your secret is safe with me! And I’m sorry for being so weird about this! Just… forget that I was here and keep up the good, uh, method acting.” Alya then shuffles to the door and checks her phone. “I better head home before my mom freaks. See you on set tomorrow, Marinette!”

“See you!” Marinette calls back with a smile so tense that her face muscles prickle.

As soon as Alya is gone, Marinette stifles a scream against her pillow and lets her transformation dissolve away. 

Method acting?  _ Method acting?! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyyyy kudos and comments sustain me so um give me life?
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](https://the-jedi.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> How now brown cow?


	4. Aporia & Climax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, Marinette and Adrien are more oblivious than we ever thought possible, so it’s time for Hawk Moth to do something ridiculous about it. The real plot twist, however, is that this isn’t a chapter summary. It’s actually a synopsis of the entire series. 
> 
> How now brown cow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I’m never gonna let the ‘how now brown cow’ thing go, so if you haven’t learned to take everything in this fic at face value yet, I don’t know what you’re still doing here. 
> 
> This is long. Really long. I was gonna break it into two chapters but honestly, this fic is already two chapters longer than I wanted it to be.

“No, no, no!” the director wails, marching onto the set in a rage. “We’ll need to do it again.”

“How now brown cow, how now brown cow, how now brown cow,” Marinette chants, clapping softly on each syllable. “C’mon, Adrien. It’s not a hard line.”

“Marinette, I swear, that’s exactly what I said.”

“But you didn’t deliver it with enough _feeling_ ,” the director complains.

Marinette nods solemnly. “She’s right, you know.”

_Great_ , Adrien thinks. Now everyone is ganging up on him. And over what? _How now brown cow?_ Why is the world so particular about this one line? It’s not like it’s crucial to the plot. In fact, Adrien doesn’t understand how it fits into the scene at all.

“Can’t we just cut it from the script?” Adrien pleads.

“Absolutely not!” the director says. “We have it on good authority that Chat Noir said those exact words during his battle with Lady Wifi. Removing them would compromise our authenticity!”

Adrien places his hands on his hips. “I’m pretty sure Chat never said that.”

“Oh, yes he did,” Marinette informs him with a giggle.

“How do you know?”

“Uh, well, Lady Wifi was broadcasting the whole thing,” she recalls. “Everyone heard it. I mean, I definitely didn’t hear it firsthand, but I totally heard it—”

Adrien glances around the room in disbelief for a few moments. “I don’t understand,” he says, “Why the heck would I—I mean Chat—say ‘how now brown cow,’ of all things?”

Everyone shrugs.

“Beats me,” the director admits. “But it happened! And that’s good enough for our movie.”

Frustrated, Adrien lets out a groan and says, “Can we come back to this scene, then? I guess I need more practice.”

“Fine, fine,” the director concedes, waving a hand dismissively. “Let’s try the kissing scene instead. Can we get a makeup artist over here? We’re gonna need some red lip stain on Marinette, otherwise her lipstick’s gonna get all smudged—”

Adrien stiffens, suddenly worried. The last time he tried to practice the kiss with Marinette, they were interrupted by the paparazzi. Their lips never even touched. And now, he’s expected to kiss her fully? While she’s in the _Ladybug_ costume? His brain will short circuit!

Nervous, Adrien bites his lip. Bites it so hard, even, that it begins to bleed.

_Crap_ , he thinks, glove immediately flying to his mouth to attend to the small but painful wound. What was he thinking? Injuring his face is one of the worst things he could do while filming a movie—

Marinette, the compassionate girl that she is, instantly spots the blood. She pulls herself away from the person fixing her makeup and gasps, “Are you alright, Adrien?”

The answer depends on her definition of ‘alright.’ At the moment, his lips are probably roughly the same color as Marinette’s. But unlike Marinette, with all the blood spurting from his lip, Adrien is definitely in no state to be kissed.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Simone Duval did not camp out beneath a table for two weeks just to see her idols utterly defamed like this.

The director said ‘kissing scene,’ and Simone froze in horrified shock. How could such a thing be allowed to happen? _A kissing scene?_ Unbelievable!  

What kind of cheap, tropey nonsense! What a juvenile, twisted perversion of the truth! Is this what they think sells? Is this what they consider ‘good filmmaking’? God, Simone can hardly stomach it. Everybody knows that Ladybug and Chat Noir’s relationship is completely platonic—they’d never kiss outside of the fanfiction that pollutes the internet. And yet the filmmakers ignore that. They ignore reality to appeal to the banal interests of the masses.

And the actors… Marinette and Adrien… they’re just going along with it! Simone now doubts that they care about Ladybug and Chat Noir one bit. They’re just here for the money or the fame. Parasites, are what those two are. Ruining Ladybug and Chat Noir’s reputation while profiting from their hard work. The nerve of it!

Simone can only imagine how ashamed her heroes will be to see this utter _travesty_ of a movie. She feels like a pot of boiling water about to overflow, fury bubbling beneath her skin.

_It should have been me and Remi_ , Simone rages internally. _We should have played Ladybug and Chat Noir. We would have done them justice._

Remi’s muscles are taut with fury, and Simone has to catch him before he surges out from beneath the tablecloth. “Don’t—” she orders.

“We can’t just let them get away with this!” Remi hisses.

“If we go out there, we’ll be thrown out. Possibly arrested too.”

“So what do you suggest?” he demands.

Simone doesn’t know. All she knows is that she’s disappointed. Disappointed and angry and willing to do _anything_ to stop this movie.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Somewhere in Paris that is definitely _not_ the Agreste mansion, a bright light pierces a pitch-dark room, causing a host of white butterflies to flutter and stir in agitation. The source of the illumination is an opening window, whose sunlight eventually reveals a tall man disguised in a silver mask and a purple suit.

Hawk Moth smiles cruelly as he gazes at the city skyline. He can sense it—the negative emotions. Someone out there is upset. Someone out there is ready to accept an Akuma.

“Ah, disappointment. The way it just,” he clenches his fist, “ _disappoints_ …”’

Unfortunately, Hawk Moth is alone, so there is no one to roll their eyes at his dramatics.

“And what could be more disappointing than a bad movie portrayal? ” he continues to literally no one but himself. “This wannabe actress is the perfect prey for my devilish Akuma.”

His deep, villainous laughter echoes in the empty room.

He outstretches his hand, welcoming the arrival of a white butterfly, which soon finds itself overwhelmed and polluted by dark magic. On the completion of the spell, he releases the delicate creature and allows it to fly toward the open window.

It’s time. His precious Akuma is ready to infect Simone Duval.

But wait… Hawk Moth senses another set of negative emotions. A similar anger, a similar disappointment. He smirks wickedly.

“Maybe it’s time that I give Ladybug and Chat Noir a real challenge,” he muses, extending yet another hand toward his collection of butterflies. “After all, two against one has never been a fair fight. Perhaps I should form a team of my own.”

Nathalie Sancoeur, Gabriel Agreste’s assistant, definitely _doesn’t_ hear Hawk Moth’s diabolical laughter from down the hall.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Remi and Simone are sitting beneath the table, considering their next move, when twin Akumas flutter beneath the fabric to find their new homes. One nests itself in Simone’s hair ribbon and the other disappears into Remi’s cat ears.

The glowing outline of a butterfly wraps over their faces, and immediately, Hawk Moth’s voice begins to echo in their ears.

“ _Starlet. Headliner. I am Hawk Moth. I am giving you the chance to reap revenge against those who stole your fame from you. All I ask for in return is the Miraculous. Can you do that?”_

“Yes, Hawk Moth,” Simone and Remi say in unison.

Dark magic envelops them in the same way it enveloped their Akumas.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

It was impossible to film the kissing scene with Adrien’s lip bleeding so profusely, so he and Marinette were temporarily sent to their dressing rooms to clean up their makeup and do some last-minute studying of their lines.

Her makeup artist left a few minutes ago, so Marinette is alone as she sits at the vanity, haphazardly flipping through the script. Honestly, it’s not like the kissing scene has that much content to memorize. Ladybug acts completely ignorant of Chat’s affections, Chat makes a cheesy declaration of love, and then they make out. It’s not like they’re performing Shakespeare.

Though she’d be lying if she said she isn’t worried. A dumb, nervous part of her brain fears that Adrien bit his lip just to postpone the kiss. Marinette has grown so much closer with him over the course of production—Alya even claims that many of his behaviors qualify as “flirting.” But what if she’s wrong? What if he can’t even fathom kissing her, and he finds her repulsive—

“Are you alright, Marinette?” Tikki asks, flitting out from the purse sitting on the countertop. “You seemed to be having a moment of panicked aporia.”

Marinette frowns. “A moment of what?”

“Well, the short definition is that you were having a moment of self-doubt,” Tikki explains. “The long definition, on the other hand, is that you were utilizing a literary device in which you introduce doubt and prompt the audience to judge the situation—”

Clasping her head in confusion, Marinette interrupts, “Seriously, Tikki, why do you keep bringing up literary devices? This is my life, not some story!”

Tikki pats her gently on the shoulder. “Whatever you say, Marinette.”

“I’m just…” Marinette pouts. “I’m just worried that Adrien doesn’t want to kiss me.”

“Don’t be,” Tikki advises simply.

Marinette gives her an appreciative nod. “You’re right. I should focus on the script. I won’t get anywhere by dwelling on every little thing Adrien does. ”

Tikki sends a pointed glare to no one in particular. “You might be surprised by what a little more _dwelling_ can reveal.”

“What are you talking—?”

Outside of Marinette’s dressing room, there’s a loud metallic clamor, followed by a series of screams and yells.

“WHERE ARE THEY?” a furious voice shrieks. “WHERE ARE ADRIEN AND MARINETTE?”

Suddenly, one of the PAs bursts into the room and grabs Marinette by the shoulders. By some miracle, Tikki just manages to hide behind a makeup bag in time.

“You need to get out of here, Marinette!” the PA urges. “There are two Akumatized villains on the set, and they’re after you and Adrien!”

“What?” Marinette gapes. “Did you say _two_ Akumatized villains?”

“Yeah!” the PA says, shaking Marinette’s whole body with her fierce grip. “It’s almost like the stakes are conveniently high for a climactic finale!”

“Uh, yeah,” Marinette hesitates, bewildered by such an odd and irrelevant statement. “Whatever you say...?”

“No time to talk. We need to get out of here!” The PA begins to pull her by the wrist to an emergency exit, but before they can leave the building, Marinette digs her heels into the floor and stops them both short. She can’t leave just yet—there’s something that Marinette needs to do.

“You go ahead,” she orders, freeing herself of the PA’s grasp. “I’ve got make sure that Adrien and Alya are alright. I can’t just leave them to face those Akumas on their own.”

“Are you crazy?” the PA demands. “You’re not actually Ladybug! You don’t need to play hero!”

“Yeah, well,” Marinette shrugs helplessly, “I don’t need to be Ladybug to do the right thing.”

The PA clearly doesn’t share that sentiment, because her response consists of an incredulous shake of the head and a rapid sprint toward the emergency exit doors. With her departure, Marinette is once again alone in the room—not considering Tikki’s company, of course.

“Two Akumas?” Marinette whispers to herself in disbelief. “Hawk Moth has never made two villains at the same time before.”

Even if she doesn’t verbally admit it, this change in tactic is… intimidating. Defeating one Akuma is hard enough, but _two_? Does Marinette even have the strength to face that?

As if sensing the aporia, Tikki zips back into view, looking determined. Seeing her little Kwami so ready for action fills Marinette with the bravery she needs.

To clear the way for Tikki, Marinette disentangles a few strands of hair from her earrings. They’re her Miraculous—the very magical artifacts that Hawk Moth is after.

But even with two Akumas on the loose, he won’t be taking them from her today.

“Tikki,” Marinette yells, “ _spots on_!”

Tikki zips into her earrings and magic washes over Marinette’s body, transforming her Ladybug costume into…

A more comfortable, _magic_ Ladybug costume.

Not that she has much time to appreciate the magical fabric, considering that nearly as soon as she is transformed, the door to her dressing room door is thrown from its hinges. Marinette has no time to react as something flies into the room and wraps around her arms and legs, rendering her unable to move.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

It takes only a few minutes for Adrien’s lip to stop bleeding. And because he doesn’t feel the need to study the script or have his makeup fixed, he figures that this is a perfect time to consult the director for some guidance on the whole ‘how now brown cow’ scene. He really doesn’t understand what he’s doing wrong, or what emotion his delivery is lacking. But no matter how much he resents it, he knows he’ll have to master that pesky line eventually.

He’s making his way onto the set when he hears a terrible crash and the thumping of panicked footfalls. A person screams in terror, and he winces at the cacophony of breaking glass.

_What the heck is going on?_ Adrien thinks as he pokes his head around the corner, hoping to the determine the cause of the chaos.

The first thing he notices is the girl’s outfit. It’s red, black, and spotted—practically identical to Ladybug’s costume (or Marinette’s, for that matter). This girl, however, can’t be counted among Adrien’s friends. She’s significantly shorter than Ladybug and Marinette, with unnaturally dark hair and just a hint of a permanent scowl on her features.

As he watches, he realizes that she doesn’t just share the appearance of Ladybug’s costume—she also possesses a magic yo-yo of some sort, and eagerly uses it to bludgeon a swathe of destruction throughout the set. Lighting fixtures collapse, expensive cameras are smashed, and props are totally crushed in her wake. More concerningly, she seems to be cackling maniacally throughout it all, unabashedly reveling in the wreckage that she’s leaving behind.

_Well, this adds new definition to the word ‘blockbuster,’_ Adrien thinks, completely unable to restrain himself.

“Care to dish out some of your signature bad luck, _Chat Noir_?” she says, ceasing her yo-yo’s spinning motion. The girl then turns her head and places a hand on her hip, looking expectantly at someone behind her.

“My pleasure, _Ladybug_ ,” a new, startlingly deep voice replies.

The Ladybug imposter then moves aside, revealing a boy in a very convincing Chat Noir costume with the exception of his bleach-blond hair, which is, in Adrien’s opinion, just a poor imitation of Chat Noir’s golden locks.

But that’s just Adrien’s opinion.

He watches as the boy pulls out a staff identical to Chat Noir’s and whacks it along any piece of the set he can find. Few objects are left intact as the green screen is torn down, the soundstage is overturned, and the director’s chair falls to pieces.

Adrien can hardly believe it. Is this… a _duo_ of Akumatized villains? Can Hawk Moth even create more than one? It’s almost as if the extent of Hawk Moth’s powers has never been specified!

By now, most Parisians know how to identify an Akuma attack, so it’s unsurprising and relieving to see that the evacuations are well underway. Actors and extras are fleeing in fear toward the emergency exits, sprinting past Adrien as they seek safety. He supposes that it’s good that the director and the producers are long gone, though he wishes that they had shown more leadership in face of this emergency. Who knows how many cast and crew members are still here, utterly oblivious to what’s going on—

Wait! Marinette is probably still in her dressing room at the opposite end of the hall, studying the script. He’ll need to warn her.

Before he can, however, Alya skids to a stop in front of him and grips his arm tightly. “Adrien!” she hisses, desperate to talk to him but afraid to catch the Ladybug and Chat Noir imposters’ attention. “There are two Akumatized villains attacking the set! We need to grab Marinette and get out of here—”

“You go. Get to safety,” Adrien tells her firmly. “I’ll grab Marinette.”

“But—”

“Don’t waste time—our dressing rooms are next to each other, and I have to go back for something anyway.”

“What do you have to go back for?” Alya demands, incredulous that an object could be worth his life.

“My… phone?” he fabricates lamely. The reality, however, is that Plagg is in his dressing room, munching on some camembert cheese at the bottom of Adrien’s messenger bag.

Alya appears unconvinced at the excuse, but doesn’t seem inclined to argue with him either. “Fine. Have it your way. But… if you don’t get Marinette in time,” she warns with dark sincerity, “You will be very, very sorry.”

With that, she spins around and runs out the closest emergency exit.

Adrien pivots and does some sprinting of his own, determined to not let Alya or Marinette down, and impatient to reach his dressing room and transform.

Not that the transformation will change his appearance all that much, considering that he’s still wearing the fake Chat Noir costume.

“WHERE ARE THEY?” Adrien hears a voice call as he leaves the set. “WHERE ARE ADRIEN AND MARINETTE?”

Oh boy, is _he_ in trouble.

He decides to transform and grab Marinette right afterward, knowing that he’ll be better prepared to defend her with a little magic on his side. Thus, as soon as he reaches the door labeled with his name and decorated with a large star, he throws it open and slides, baseball-style, into the room. It’s thankfully empty, save for the sounds of contented chewing coming from the messenger bag.

“Plagg!” Adrien yells, not even bothering to explain the situation to his Kwami. “Claws out!”

Instantly, magic sweeps over him, morphing his prop gloves into his usual clawed ones, and changing his decorative mask into his far more useful, night vision-capable one.

The transformation is barely complete when someone knocks down the door.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

“Ow!” Marinette exclaims as she is dropped onto the floor, having been fireman-carried onto the set by one of the Akumatized villains. Her arms and legs are still tightly bound by something (is that an _extension cord_ from the lighting department?) so she has no choice but to stay where she is.

She still can’t believe this. She can’t believe that she has to deal with _more than one_ Akumatized villain. A few days ago, such plurality would have been unthinkable.

Off to Marinette’s right, there’s an impact and an indignant yelp, evidencing that someone else has joined her on the floor.

She rolls over to discover the source of the noises, and is relieved to see Chat Noir lying beside her. He might be bound like she is, but at least he can just use his claws to free them both—

_No, wait_ , Marinette thinks upon further examination of the boy at her side. More specifically, she focuses on the cut on his lip, which is still slightly caked with dried blood.

That’s… that’s not Chat.

“Adrien?” Marinette gasps, horrified to see him, _the boy she loves_ , in such terrible danger. But… but Adrien has nothing to do with this! Hawk Moth has no reason to attack him! What kind of sick, twisted—

She takes a deep breath. Ladybug can’t panic. Not when Adrien is relying on her.

Initially, when he looks at her, he appears relieved. But when his gaze travels down to Marinette’s lips, the strangest disappointment begins to consume his features. It takes her only a moment to realize why.

_Crap._

_Crap, crap, crap._

The lip stain! That bright red gunk is still smeared all over her lips (the makeup artist simply couldn’t resist, it matched too well with her costume). But Ladybug has never worn makeup so obvious, and Adrien knows it.

A certain co-star of his, on the other hand, has been wearing red lipstick this whole time...

“Marinette?” He says her name questioningly, as if he’s confirming that it’s really her.

This can’t be happening. This. Can’t. Be. Happening.

Why didn’t she just take off her lipstick? How could she have been so careless?

Her hands are tied. Literally and metaphorically. She can’t act like Ladybug when, thanks to her own makeup choices, she is so obviously Marinette—she’ll end up revealing her secret identity. But how is she supposed to capture and cleanse the Akumas if she can’t use her superpowers?

“We’re in trouble, Adrien,” Marinette gulps.

“I’ll have to agree with you there, Marinette,” a voice says from somewhere above her. “Though I must say… you guys might not make a good Ladybug and Chat Noir, but you play the part of ‘hostages’ to perfection!”

Marinette cranes her neck. The Akumatized villains stand over her, positively gloating. One is a girl wearing a convincing Ladybug costume, and the other is a boy sporting an equally realistic Chat Noir suit. But… Marinette can’t help noticing that there’s something off about their outfits…

The Ladybug imposter’s hair ribbons are too long, way longer than Ladybug’s. And this fake Chat Noir’s ears aren’t made from the same material as the rest of his suit.

Those accessories… she remembers seeing them before, almost like they were purposely emphasized for the purpose of foreshadowing.

“Simone?” Marinette says in wonder. “Remi? Is that you?”

The boy in the Chat Noir costume laughs mirthlessly. “What, are we just yelling out names, now? I mean, jeez. Did you hit her head when you dropped her, Simone?”

Simone shrugs. “Not as much as I would’ve liked to.”

Well, it’s not exactly the nicest answer, but it’s the confirmation Marinette needs.

“Hasn’t Hawk Moth done the whole ‘Copycat’ thing before?” Adrien complains, struggling against his bindings.

“And let’s not forget Antibug,” Marinette deadpans, also unimpressed by the repetition.

Thinking back on it, Hawk Moth has really become quite predictable. Every time Ladybug and Chat Noir fight an Akuma these days, it’s always the same thing. An unhappy person. A colorful, powerful but decidedly _non-lethal_ supervillain. Cataclysm. Lucky charm. A cleansed Akuma. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Honestly, you’d think Marinette was living in some quirky monster-of-the-week television show!

“Oh, come on. Do you guys really think that Hawk Moth cares about originality? He already made two villains with the word ‘Dark’ in their names,” Simone points out with some impatience. “Besides, we’re not here to be original. We’re here to prove that we’re the superior Ladybug and Chat Noir actors.”

“Tell them how we plan to do it, Simone,” Remi urges his sister giddily.

“Simple,” Simone grins. “Our attack on the studio will surely bring Ladybug and Chat Noir here. And then, when they arrive, we’ll tell them about the movie’s cringe-worthy romantic subplot.”

“Hey!” Adrien protests. “Ladybug and Chat Noir make a great couple!”

Marinette shoots him a warning look. “This is _so_ not the time for your shipping, Adrien.”

“Just because you have no faith in true love—”  

“They’ll be utterly horrified!” Simone monologues, speaking loudly and pointedly over the interruption. “Horrified and _insulted_ by your performances! And then, Ladybug and Chat Noir will choose us as your replacements, and we’ll give them a portrayal worth watching.”

Adrien shakes his head in disbelief. “Oh my god, seriously, if all you want is my movie role, you can take it. I’m only here because my dad signed a contract.”

“And my audition was a total lapse in judgment on my part,” Marinette confesses. “If you want the part of Ladybug, it’s yours. You didn’t need to destroy the movie set to make your point.”

This may be Marinette’s oddest tactic yet—just giving the Akuma victims what they want. In all her battles, Marinette has never seen an Akumatized villain just lose their reason to be angry. What happens if they do? Can Hawk Moth maintain control anyway?

These are uncharted waters that they’re in.

And clearly, the siblings did not anticipate this level of cooperation, because Simone and Remi are awfully quiet and contemplative for a few minutes. Marinette stares up at them hopefully. Maybe, she thinks, they’ll just accept the offers and move on. Maybe, without sufficient negative emotions to fuel them, the Akumas will leave their hosts.

Maybe, for once, she won’t have to fight a dramatic battle to prevent Hawk Moth from wreaking havoc on Paris.

“Wow, guys, that would actually be super cool,” Remi says finally. “And we’ll totally take you up on that. But…”

“But?” Marinette and Adrien say in unison.

“Hawk Moth says we still have to lure the real Ladybug and Chat Noir here to steal their Miraculous,” Simone finishes with a small shrug.

“Oh, okay,” Marinette says, rolling her eyes. “Because that’s not totally _counterproductive_ to your goals. They’re not going to approve of your acting skills if you’re trying to attack them!”

Simone shrugs again, immune to Adrien and Marinette’s palpable outrage.

“I’m being controlled by a magical butterfly,” she reminds them. “Frankly, it’s a miracle that my motives make as much sense as they do.”

Well, it’s hard to argue with that logic. Or lack thereof.

Simone then gestures down the hallway. “C’mon, Remi. These two aren’t going anywhere. Let’s start sealing the emergency exit doors—we don’t want Ladybug and Chat Noir sneaking up on us.”

As soon as their captors are out of sight and earshot, Marinette and Adrien turn to each other. Both parties are struggling to appear calm (probably for the other’s sake), but they’re met with limited success. The worry is evident in their features.

“Don’t worry, Adrien,” Marinette encourages to the best of her ability. “I’m sure the real Chat Noir will show up to rescue us soon.”

He presses his lips tightly together. “I… uh… don’t know if we can count on Chat Noir’s arrival right now. But hey, Ladybug always saves the day, so I bet that she won’t let us down.”

Ashamed that she will _indeed_ be letting them both down, Marinette flits her eyes downward and says, “I think Ladybug might be busy right now, Adrien.”

  


· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Is this it, Adrien wonders? Is this how Hawk Moth finally defeats him? Helpless, with a rubber-coated extension cord wrapped around his arms and legs?

But he’s _not_ helpless. Or he shouldn’t be, anyway. He was able to transform before his capture, so he has all of his powers: the claws, the agility, the Cataclysm—all of it! The only thing holding him back is his secret identity. Because right now, Marinette is convinced that Adrien is simply wearing a Chat Noir costume, and he can’t risk her learning the truth:

Adrien Agreste is not just representing Chat Noir on the big screen. Adrien Agreste _is_ actually Chat Noir.

In other dire circumstances, he might have revealed his secret for the sake of saving them both, but this situation is different. He knows how bad he would look. He fears that Marinette will never forgive him for being petty enough to play himself in a movie, even if his father forced the decision upon him.

There must be something he can do… some way to use his powers without Marinette finding out…

Adrien scrunches up his nose, thinking, and then…

_That’s it!_

“Hey, Marinette,” Adrien says. “We’re both inexplicably convinced that Ladybug and Chat Noir won’t show up, right?”

Marinette shoots him a confused look, but nonetheless answers, “Right.”

“Well… if they’re not coming… why don’t we just rescue ourselves?”

For a moment, she just gawks at him, unbelieving that he would suggest something so inane. If she had a free hand (which she doesn’t) he suspects that she would facepalm. Or slap him.

“Adrien,” Marinette begins, voice clipped. “If it were that easy, don’t you think we’d be free by now?”

“You’re right. As Adrien and Marinette, we’re stuck here. But,” He jerks his head toward Marinette’s costume... “If we start thinking and acting like Ladybug and Chat Noir, on the other hand, we might just find a way out of this.”

“Thinking and acting… like Ladybug and Chat Noir?” Marinette repeats numbly.

“I mean, that’s what we were hired to do!” Adrien reminds her. “We know how they fight. You’ve practiced with the yo-yo. I’ve worked with the staff. Everyone says we’re pretty good with them.”

“A little, maybe.”

“Plus, we know the script, and these fights are almost always the same. All we need to do is break the objects that contain the Akumas, right?”

“I mean, yeah,” Marinette replies, but it’s clear by her tone that she thinks he’s oversimplifying the situation. “Though I hate to break it to you, Adrien, I’m no Ladybug. And even if I were, Ladybug can’t break out of these bindings on her own.”

She tilts her head toward the wires wrapped around her limbs. Unfortunately, the fact that she can’t point a finger at them only substantiates her point.  

“Well, that’s what Chat Noir is here for,” Adrien tells her with a grin. “Adrien Agreste would never think of a way to cut through these bindings. He’d just wait for someone to rescue him. Chat Noir, on the other hand…”

He manages to wriggle his hands into the proper position, and then, using his claws, he slashes through the cord fastening his arms together. They fall away, allowing him to push himself into a sitting position. And then, with a few more swipes, he’s entirely free—legs and all.

“How… how did you do that?” Marinette stammers, bug-eyed. “I thought your claws were just props.”

“They, uh, were…” Adrien hesitates. “Before, I mean. But they put in real claws last week. You know, for authenticity. That crazy director just loves to keep things as realistic as possible.”

Marinette nods knowingly. “She does love her authenticity.”

In truth, that was less explaining than Adrien thought he would need, but he’s relieved nonetheless.

“And now for Chat’s _Lady_ ...” Adrien murmurs jokingly, kneeling over Marinette with his claws outstretched. His words have the desired effect—he can see Marinette roll her eyes, annoyed by his so-called _shipping_ , but the situation seems to lighten just a little. There’s a small smile detectable in her features, and she doesn’t even verbally complain about the comment as he tears his way through the cables.

“Thanks, Adrien,” she tells him, rubbing her now-freed wrists.

Pleased to have helped, Adrien shoots her another grin. “Guess we make a good crime-fighting duo, huh?”

She smiles and blushes. “I guess we do.”

The look on her face, so admiring and compassionate, is more than enough to infect Adrien with a blush of his own. God, why doesn’t the real Ladybug ever blush at him like that? And why does Marinette still look _so good_ in that costume?

There is an odd pause in which they just sit there, eyes fixated on one another. Adrien can’t fathom what she’s waiting for, or what they should do next. But he knows that they can’t just stay here forever. Simone and Remi could be back any minute—their absence has already been conveniently long.

And mentioning them, even in an internal monologue, is a sure way to provoke their arrival.

“How cute. Look, Remi, our little hostages have teamed up to escape!” Simone’s voice shouts from behind them, as if on cue. “Too bad for them it’ll be a _short_ partnership.”

Instantly and simultaneously, Adrien and Marinette leap to their feet and whirl around, already in a fighting stance. They don’t even notice the strange synchronicity to their movements—they’re too focused on confronting the threat of those Akumas.

At the back of the studio, Simone and Remi are trying their best to appear intimidating. Simone, for one, is spinning her yo-yo at top speeds, and Remi is holding his staff like a club. To anyone else, they’d be downright terrifying. Not a single person in Paris would want to imagine an evil Ladybug and Chat Noir like these two.

And yet, they’re still far from being the scariest villains Adrien has seen.

Much to his surprise, he sees Marinette remove the prop yo-yo from her waist and begin to twirl it in a circle. It looks stunningly realistic like that, he thinks. Just like the real thing—without the magic, of course. With her determined smirk and crouched stance, Marinette could be the real Ladybug, ready to wage battle against the forces of evil.

It’s kind of beautiful.

But Adrien is entirely devoted to his Ladybug and would never consider being unfaithful to the perfect love of his life, the protector of Paris, the one and only girl that he could ever, and he means _ever_ —

“Still think you’re good with that staff, Adrien?” Marinette asks. Her focus remains centered on Simone, Remi, and her own spinning yo-yo, but she manages to sneak an encouraging glance Adrien’s way.

Returning her smirk, he detaches the staff from his belt and points it, fencing-style, at Remi’s chest. “I’ll manage.”

The prop staff has a limited ability to extend and retract. As long as he doesn’t do anything excessive with it, Adrien figures that they’ll never know the truth—that this staff is the genuine article, and the fake version disappeared sometime during his transformation.

“Simone’s Akuma must be in her hair ribbons,” Marinette observes to Adrien, indicating their first target.

“And Remi’s must be in his cat ears,” Adrien notes, taking her cue and pointing out their second target.

Having heard the seriousness of their exchange, Simone and Remi take one look at each other and burst into mocking laughter, thoroughly hysterical that Marinette and Adrien would challenge them in such a way.

“Come on, you two,” Remi snickers. “Get real. You’re not really Ladybug and Chat Noir. You can’t defeat us.”

“Then I guess you two have nothing to worry about,” Marinette challenges. “I mean, how can you be worthy of our movie roles if you can’t take us in a fight?”

That comment wipes the humor clean off Remi’s face. Simone actually gasps in outrage.

He doesn’t know what the heck Marinette is thinking, goading them like that.

But Adrien kind of likes it.

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

The battle starts quickly and continues to move just as fast. Marinette knows that she must remain focused on fighting Simone, countering yo-yo with yo-yo, but she still worries about Adrien. He doesn’t have the necessary powerset to take on an Akumatized villain like Remi, and she cares about him too much to let him get hurt.

So, during a brief relent in Simone’s assault, Marinette peers at the boys’ fight, scared that Adrien might be on the verge of injury or defeat...

Only to discover that Adrien is handling himself quite well, matching Remi blow-to-blow.

Like on that first day at the studio, he catches her staring at him and returns her gaze with a flirtatious wink. Marinette doesn’t even know how to react. His behavior, in that moment, reminds her so much of Chat Noir that she snorts rather than blushes at his childish antics.

Simone is not oblivious to Marinette’s distraction. With a lunge and the yell, Simone renews the fight. Her yo-yo whips around in a frenzy.

Marinette ducks out of the way just in time, but she’s careful not to do anything too fancy. The wrong move, if skilled beyond Marinette’s ability, will reveal her identity rather than save her life.

“I don’t understand!” Simone wails. “You’re just actors! You shouldn’t be able to stand your ground against us!”

“Well, we do our own stunts,” Marinette claims, as if that explains everything.

Simone isn’t wrong; Adrien and Marinette are standing their ground. But they’re not making any real progress against the Duvals—if anything, they’re evenly matched, and a stalemate isn’t an acceptable option. They need a change in strategy—

“Hey, Adrien!” Marinette shouts. “Care to exchange dance partners?”

“With pleasure, Marinette!”

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Adrien switches places with Marinette in a matter of seconds, somehow managing to accomplish the move without flipping or doing anything otherwise catlike. If there’s anything he’s learned in the last few minutes, it’s how difficult it is to hide his abilities _and_ combat an Akuma at the same time.

Now, he’s standing in front of Simone’s rotating yo-yo, and the fight quickly begins to mimic a _sword vs. shield_ type of situation. Offense becomes Adrien’s main strategy as he pokes and jabs at her with his staff. Simone, meanwhile, blocks every blow using her spinning yo-yo, but that’s just fine with him. She fails to realize that he doesn’t really intend to hit her.

He has another plan, in fact, if he can manage it.

He just doesn’t know if it’s even possible.

“You know, I think Marinette’s better with that yo-yo that you are,” Adrien taunts. “And hers isn’t even _magic_.”

Simone screeches in rage and glances over at Marinette’s battle, most likely to assure herself that he’s wrong.

And that’s what he needs. He needs her to look away.

Now for the moment of truth.

_Cataclysm,_ he screams in his head, hoping desperately that it will work. He’s never silently summoned the ability before, and he’s not sure that he can. Plagg never said—

But then, to his absolute relief, he feels it, that familiar tingle in his hand—the power of destruction. There’s no time to lose, no time to dwell on how _completely ridiculous_ it is that he’s been screaming the word the entire time, making an obvious fool of himself...

Nope, he’s totally not dwelling on that at all.

Only milliseconds have passed, and Simone is still staring at Marinette, probably to make unnecessary comparisons between herself and the other girl. Simone is not entirely stupid, Adrien notes with some disappointment, because she didn’t leave herself undefended—the yo-yo continues to spin in front of her face, effectively blocking herself from a bodily attack.

Good thing he’s not planning one of those.

In her distraction, Adrien merely outstretches a claw into the turning string of the yo-yo, which moves so fast that it mimics a solid, red wall. The speed of the movement quickly and inevitably allows the string to make contact with his claw, and, per the superior destructive power of the Miraculous, Simone’s magical string just… _snaps_.

The sound of the yo-yo clattering to the floor seems ten times louder than it should be. Simone may not be the first to realize what it means, but she discovers the truth soon enough. Her gaze is wide-eyed and horrified as it shifts between her broken weapon and Adrien’s triumphant grin.

“But… but…” she splutters, “my yo-yo!”

“Guess Hawk Moth isn’t making his villain’s weapons as durable as they used to be!” Adrien gloats, and then surges forward. Simone is too shocked to even react when his gloves close around her hair ribbons, which, after a short tug, immediately loosen and release.

But he doesn’t destroy them—not yet, anyway. He’ll need the real Ladybug to do that.

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

 

Marinette cannot believe it. She cannot _believe_ that she’s been yelling _Lucky Charm_ to the heavens for years, only to discover now that she can invoke the ability with a mere thought. All this time, Marinette was just… _screaming_ for no reason. Why didn’t Tikki say something? Did she enjoy watching Marinette humiliate herself?

Her quietly-activated Lucky Charm allowed her to summon a small bottle of cooking oil behind her back, and it didn’t take her long to figure out its purpose.

As soon as Remi crept in close for a lunging attack with his staff, Marinette flipped open the cap and poured the oil all over his gloves. His grip instantly began to slip on the sleek metal, and his growing momentum caused the staff to utterly _fly_ out of his hand. It sailed across the room, landing far out of Remi’s reach.

Now, Remi is still gaping at his empty hands. He simply cannot believe that the staff is no longer there.

Scoffing, Marinette swipes the cat ears out of his hair and kicks him to the floor. It’s a simple enough move that no one will be suspicious—a good kick is well within a typical teenage girl’s skillset.

The cooking oil, on the other hand, could raise some questions, so she slides it behind a downed lighting fixture and out of sight. With any luck, Remi won’t remember that she had it once she works her magic on the Akuma’s damage. But she’ll have one heck of a time trying to explain to Adrien why she had cooking supplies on a movie set.

_Adrien!_ she thinks with a start. She hasn’t heard anything from his side of the room for a few minutes—

But when she turns around, she’s relieved to see Simone incapacitated, her arms bound with the detached tail portion of Adrien’s costume.

“Nice work, Marinette!” he compliments her, jogging to her side of the room. He skids to a stop with some difficulty thanks to the cooking oil that dripped onto the floor, but he doesn't ask questions about it. He’s far too distracted by the sight of Remi sprawled on the ground, moving feebly. “You sure showed him.”

“And you showed Simone,” Marinette remarks, audibly impressed.

She is casually examining Adrien for injuries when Marinette spots an edge of red poking out from his closed glove.

“You got the hair ribbons!” Marinette exclaims, eagerly reaching for them. Now, all she has to do is cleanse both Akumas, grab the Lucky Charm, and fix the collateral damage.

Oh, and somehow convince Adrien to leave. He can’t be allowed to see Marinette work her magic. Such is the way of secret identity maintenance.

But in a strange move of defensiveness, Adrien pulls the ribbons far out of her grasp. “Yeah,” he says. “I came here to get Remi’s too. You know. So we can keep them safe.”

“Well, I’ve got Remi’s,” Marinette points out, lightly shaking the cat ears to emphasize her possession of them. “In fact, why don’t you give me Simone’s? That way, I can bring them to Ladybug, and she can cleanse them.”

“Actually, I think it’ll be better if I get them to Ladybug,” Adrien insists, extending his hand for the ears. “I know how to contact her.”

Marinette raises a skeptical eyebrow before shaking her head in refusal. “Sorry, Adrien, if anyone is going to get these Akumas to Ladybug, it’ll be me.”

He glares at her. He’s actually _glaring_ at her because she won’t give him Remi’s cat ears, and Marinette cannot believe it. How could they have worked so flawlessly as a team only to bicker like children over who gets the honor of delivering the Akumas to Ladybug?

Well… here’s a fun fact, Adrien Agreste: Marinette _is_ Ladybug. So it definitely makes more sense for her to take the Akumas.

Not that she can tell him that, obviously.

“And why should you take the Akumas to Ladybug, again?” Adrien challenges, clearly unwilling to back down. “Because I’m not seeing a good reason here.”

“Because I know her.”

“As I recall, you’ve had like… one conversation with her.”

“That’s not all,” Marinette sort-of lies. “She’s, uh, helped me with my method acting recently.”

Adrien just squints. “What do you mean, _method acting?_ ”

“Listen, Adrien,” Marinette grits out, poking Adrien in the chest. Hard. “It will be better for everyone if you give me that Akuma and leave so that Ladybug can—”

_Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep._

It’s a sound so familiar that Marinette instinctively stiffens in panic.

_Not now!_ she thinks desperately, absolutely horrified at the timing. She was so, so close. She managed to defeat both Akumas and preserve her secret identity despite Adrien knowing that it’s Marinette in this costume rather than Ladybug. And yet, in the excitement, her gravest mistake was forgetting about the timer.

How could she have been so foolish?

She’s already fabricating some sort of excuse for the sound before she finally realizes...

Those beeps didn’t come from her Miraculous.

They came from Adrien.

Clearly terror-stricken, he shoves his hand behind his back as fast as he can, but she still doesn’t miss the shimmer of a ring on his finger, or the blinking of the little paw-print that she’s seen a million times before.

“Did… Did your ring just beep?” Marinette asks breathlessly, feeling like her lungs are working in reverse.

Adrien’s costume has a lot of bells and whistles, but the designer definitely didn’t give him any sort of timer-slash-ring. And now… now she knows that it's possible to activate her Lucky Charm (and by extension, the transformation countdown) without saying a word. Did he try the same thing as she did? Did he use Cataclysm behind her back?

But Adrien can’t be… he _can’t_ be—

“Marinette,” he urges, sounding desperate. “Please. I really, really need that Akuma before—”

_Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep._

This time, it’s Marinette’s Miraculous. They’re close enough to her ear that she can tell right away, but she’s not the only one who hears the alarm. She watches, helpless, as Adrien’s jaw drops like a weight.

Coherent speech escapes him. There are little sounds—choking noises, garbled words, small gasps—that seem to emanate from his open mouth, but she can’t even begin to decipher them. The shaking, disbelieving finger he points at her practically makes her vision blur.

“You… you’re…” he manages, not that there’s much meaning to glean from that. “Marinette... Are you…?”

His ring lets out another beep, and her earrings follow suit with their own shrill reminder.

This can’t be happening right now. Marinette is running out of time before she detransforms and loses her ability to cleanse the Akumas. But she… she _can’t_ . How is she supposed to think, to focus, to _deal with this_ right now, when her life is at its most confusing?

What are the chances of this even happening? Small? Miniscule? _Impossible_ ? And what, she wonders further, are the chances that she’s wrong about this… about _him_? Somehow, they seem even smaller.

After all the lies, after all the pretending, the truth is finally kicking Marinette in the face, and she supposes she had it coming. This is it. Her just rewards for using the words ‘method acting’ like some conceited moviestar.

What would Tikki call this, Marinette wonders? A character crisis, perhaps?

Well, Marinette decides, the crisis will have to wait. Ladybug and Chat Noir have a responsibility to rescue these people from Hawk Moth, and they can’t afford her confusion or her hesitance.

They need Ladybug. And Ladybug needs to _get a grip_.

“Chat,” she commands, shoving all pretenses aside. “I need that Akuma right now!”

This time, he doesn’t even hesitate to hand over Simone’s ribbons, and she supposes that’s all the proof she needs.

_Sorry, Hawk Moth_ , Marinette thinks as she unceremoniously tears the cat ears and hair ribbons in half, forcing the Akumas out of their hiding places. _But_ _you’ll need more than two copycats to stop us._

The butterflies begin to flutter toward the window, seeking some sort of escape, but Marinette won’t allow that.

“No more evil-doing for you, little Akumas!” she shouts. A short toss from Marinette, and the yo-yo is sweeping directly into the butterflies’ path. They are captured and cleansed in a matter of milliseconds, once again returned to their pure white state, free of Hawk Moth’s magic.

This time, however, she doesn’t yell “Time to de-evilize!” like she normally does. It has suddenly come to Marinette’s attention that _de-evilize_ is not a word, and really, she’s quite embarrassed about the whole thing. Why didn’t anyone tell her?

The next step is to locate the bottle of cooking oil, and as soon as it’s within her grasp, she launches it toward the ceiling where it explodes in an enormous flurry of magic and ladybugs. Around her, the damage on the set is wiped away, leaving behind a clean and well-prepped movie studio. It seems that Ladybug has successfully worked her magic, and despite his best efforts, Hawk Moth won’t be stopping this film or the actors who star in it.

With no more Akumas to power them, Simone and Remi’s transformations fade, leaving behind a pair of fully human, non-magical siblings. Somehow, the hair ribbons and cat ears have miraculously found their way back to their owners’ heads, completely intact.

_Miraculously_. Jeez, Marinette is as bad as Chat these days.

And then she freezes.

Chat. Adrien. The countdown.

Her earrings give yet another indignant beep, angry to have been forgotten so easily, and Marinette is again stricken by the ceaseless ticking of the clock which so doggedly plots against her. These days, time is as much her enemy as Hawk Moth is.

Thus, before the Duvals fully awaken and fail to remember the last half-hour or so, Marinette is grabbing Adrien by the wrist and pulling him out of the room. They need to…

She sighs to herself.

They need to have a _chat_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, y'all. Please make my day with some comments/kudos because I hate writing fight scenes and I have no idea if that was terrible or not. 
> 
> AND PLEASE TELL ME WHETHER YOU CAUGHT THE MEME. I snuck it in there because, um, I'm a literal pile of garbage?
> 
> There's an epilogue-ish chapter next. It'll be short. 
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](https://the-jedi.tumblr.com/)


	5. Reveal and Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which magical transformations don’t transform much at all, and Adrien almost falls off a roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rip me, this was supposed to be a short fic. This is the last chapter, and it's short, but the last chapter was so long that y'all can't even complain. 
> 
> Also nobody told me if they caught the meme last chapter.

In all his fantasies of revealing his identity to Ladybug, Adrien never imagined that his Chat Noir costume would fade away to reveal  _ another _ , slightly less comfortable Chat Noir costume. But for some strange reason, that’s exactly what happened. 

It happened to Ladybug— _ Marinette _ —too. He watched in awe as a glowing magic washed over her body—a magic which at least indicated some sort of transformation, but provided no discernable change to her appearance. 

Considering recent events, Adrien won’t even try to deny his own stupidity, but he’s at least competent enough to realize one incontestable fact:

Marinette, his friend, classmate, and co-star is Ladybug. The real Ladybug. 

Which, if he may say so, was so pathetically obvious that he wants to die of humiliation. How  _ the hell  _ did he miss that one? And how the hell did she miss his secret too? They’re supposed to be partners! They’re supposed to be friends! And yet...

They both fell for the same dumb excuses, the same dumb logic, which convinced them of the impossibility of each other’s true identities. 

“Earth to Adrien!” Marinette urges, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “You’ve been staring at me for five minutes without saying anything, and I’m starting to freak out.” 

If the situation were different, he might have reacted like Chat. He might have suavely told her that he’s staring at her because she’s beautiful like this, framed against the Parisian skyline and the crescent moon, the light breeze pulling at the loose strands of her hair. And then she might have scoffed dismissively at him, and that would hurt somewhat, but in the end he wouldn’t have cared because at least he was with her—

But right now, the only thought he can muster is a worry that he’s going to fall off the roof. The roof of the studio, in fact, where she dragged him shortly after the double Akuma attack so that they could talk over their discoveries. 

A roof, as aforementioned, off which he might fall. Because his legs feel like they’re made of jelly instead of whatever it is that legs are actually supposed to be made of. 

Oh boy, is  _ he _ in trouble. Again. 

“You’re swaying. Oh god, Adrien, you’re not going to pass out, are you?” 

“I might,” he tells her honestly. “I really might.”

“Please don’t,” she says, grabbing hold of his shoulders to steady him. “I really… I really just want to sort this out.”

Those perfect blue eyes are looking at him, imploring him, and now he knows that they belong to Marinette as well as Ladybug, which means that Adrien, despite knowing so much, knows nothing at all. 

“What’s there to sort out?” he murmurs. “You’re Ladybug. You’re Marinette, and you’re Ladybug.” 

“And you, Adrien Agreste, are apparently Chat Noir.” 

The acknowledgment is strange because a part of his brain hears it in Ladybug’s voice, and another part hears it in Marinette’s. It all sounds the same, really, except that it’s inexplicably not. 

He’s lying. There’s so much to sort out, and he’s  _ lying _ about it. 

Adrien loved Ladybug—it was something that he accepted and embraced. He was in love with her every day since their first battle against Hawk Moth and Stoneheart. He was in love with her bravery, her intelligence, and her raw determination. She could have been covered in garbage or sewage and he’d still admire her beauty. She could have insulted him a thousand heartbreaking times and he would still give his life for hers.  _ That’s _ how much he loved her. 

But Adrien also learned to love Marinette, if in a different way. Marinette was the sweet girl who always defended her classmates, who wanted nothing more than everyone else’s happiness, who gave him a lucky bracelet just because he felt unlucky. And once he was cast in the movie with her, their relationship shifted even more. He learned that she was funny, that she was short-tempered, that she was stubbornly opinionated but in the best way. If it wasn’t for his blind devotion to Ladybug, he probably would have fallen head-over-heels for someone as unwaveringly kind and fascinatingly complex as Marinette. 

But now he’s stuck in the past-tense because reconciling these two girls, and his feelings for them, is like trying to see with a blurry camera lens. There’s something there, right in front of him. Something obvious. But he just can’t make sense of it yet. 

There’s so much to sort out. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you,” Marinette apologizes softly, breaking him out of his reverie. 

“What?”

“You were probably expecting someone amazing, maybe an Olympic athlete or something, I don’t know. But that’s not me, and I didn’t want you to know because I was scared of what you’d think,” she rambles nervously. “Everyone thinks Ladybug is perfect and I couldn’t ruin that illusion for you—any side of you, for that matter. I just… I don’t know. I’m a coward, I guess.”

“You’re not a coward,” Adrien tells her, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He’s so certain of the words that they feel more like a reflex than a reassurance. 

“Oh, really?” Marinette—Ladybug—challenges. “You’ve wanted to know the truth from the beginning.” She points at herself with a single, unforgiving finger. “But _I_ was the one who held us back. I made us hide from each other. And not to preserve our ‘secret identities’ or any of that stupid tropey nonsense. I just…” She releases a trembling sigh and presses her palms to her forehead. “I didn’t want you to know that it was the Miraculous that made me special, and nothing else.”

He watches as she tears the Ladybug mask, the fake one, off her face and tosses it onto the ground. Without it, he can see the distress in her features—the water gathering along her lower lashes, the defined crease between her eyebrows, the trembling frown straining her lips. Something in Adrien utterly crumbles at the sight of her. 

“There’s nothing,” she mutters, throwing her hands to the side like she’s presenting herself to an audience. “Nothing but this, nothing but me, and if that’s less than you were looking for then you better keep looking because this… this is all that I’ve got. I’m just Marinette Dupain-Cheng with a pair of ridiculous, magical earrings.” 

Adrien shakes his head. Not in disappointment, but in amazement. “You really think that I’m disappointed that it’s you?” 

Her eyes glint dangerously. “Do not mock me, Adrien—” 

“You really think that you’re less than I expected?” he demands, then sighs. “Marinette… you’re not less. You’re so much more than I already thought you were, and frankly, I’m a little overwhelmed.” 

The look she gives him is cautious. “Overwhelmed. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Because it sounds like a bad thing.” 

“A good thing, probably,” he decides. “But right now? It’s a confusing thing.” 

Marinette laughs then, but not at all lightly. “Confusing? Oh, yeah—that’s an understatement. If you think you’re having identity-reveal whiplash, I just found out that my schoolgirl crush is also my crime-fighting partner, who, incidentally, has been flirting with me this entire time.”

Wait. 

He’s her—?

_ What?  _

She seems fully aware of what she said, and not at all embarrassed. If anything, she just seems frustrated. 

“You have a crush on me?” 

“I  _ had _ a crush on Adrien,” Marinette emphasizes. “And because of my feelings for him, I kept rejecting Chat. But now, I know that you’re one and the same, and I’ve been sabotaging myself the whole goddamn time.”

With a groan of exasperation, Marinette drops her head into her hands and plants herself, cross-legged, on the surface of the roof. 

Adrien, meanwhile, can relate to that sentiment all too well. 

“You’re not the only one who sabotaged yourself,” Adrien confesses after a moment. “I was totally in love with Ladybug. Like… _ in love _ , in love. But I was so distracted by my feelings for her that I refused to notice anyone else. Including you, Marinette.” 

“But we’re the same,” Marinette says pointedly, if not a bit humorously. 

“But you’re the same,” Adrien agrees, “And I’m an idiot.”

“We’re both idiots, really.”

“Yup.”

They don’t speak for a while, but the silence isn’t quite strained. There’s a certain peace to it—a certain relief that the truth is out there, all of it out in the open and within their reach. There are cars honking in the distance, and dogs barking at stray cats. The world is huge and intimidating and mysterious, but right now, Adrien and Marinette have nothing left to wonder about each other except…

Except how to proceed from here. 

“We’re going to need time, right?” Marinette asks tentatively. “Time to figure this out, I mean.”

Adrien nods. 

“It’s probably gonna be weird for a while.”

“Well,” Adrien shrugs, “We have six more months of filming, plus an indeterminable number of school years to figure it out, considering that our ages have never been canonically specified. ”

“Well, then don’t you think it’s kind of stupid,” Marinette continues, “that our first kiss is going to be for this dumb movie, rather than for ourselves?”

He blinks. “That is kind of terrible, actually.”

“So I was thinking… maybe…” 

Adrien positively whirls on her, grinning broadly. “That we should kiss now?”

Hey, he may be a little confused today’s events, but he's pretty sure that this is how the story ends—or how he wants it to end—anyway. 

“Um, No,” Marinette balks, covering his already-puckering lips with her hand.  “I was thinking that maybe we should try to postpone it. You know, until we figure things out.” 

“Oh, well.” Adrien scratches the back of his neck, somewhat embarrassed, and turns so that he’s staring straight ahead. “I mean, that works too.” 

From the corner of his eye, he sees her smile at him. And really, out of all of Marinette’s features, he thinks that’s the one that should have given away the truth. There’s so many pieces of who she is in that smile. It has all of Marinette’s kindness, and all of Ladybug’s strength, and truly, it’s just all-around perfect. 

“This is going to sound crazy,” Adrien says slowly, “For the first time… I feel like the focus of our conflict has totally switched from dramatic irony to situational irony.” 

And then, as if on cue, a bright red Kwami suddenly zips into view, squeaking, “You’d be right!” before flying away once more. It’s an odd sight, certainly, but Adrien doesn’t even question it, and Marinette looks more annoyed than fazed. 

“You know, kitty,” she says quietly, leaning her head on his shoulder and staring out at the skyline, “despite all the weirdness… I’m definitely lucky to have met you. Both sides of you.”

This spot is no Eiffel Tower. It's just the roof of the movie studio, and it's not even high enough to see that much. But somehow… Adrien thinks that it’s just as perfect. 

“Normally, I’d argue that you’re always lucky, given the spots and all,” he replies smoothly, and he can already sense her begrudging amusement. “But really… I was the lucky one in this situation,  _ My Lady _ .” 

 

· • ⸰ ° ⸰ • ·

  
  


The  _ Ladybug and Chat Noir _ premiere is a tremendous, star-studded event that rivets the entire world’s attention. It seems like everyone has been eagerly anticipating this movie’s arrival, and now, the wait is finally over. 

The stars, Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste, arrive in a white stretch limousine to flashing cameras and screaming fans. Marinette is beautifully clad in a bright red gown, and Adrien is beyond dashing in an all-black tuxedo. Naturally, they have been dressed with their roles in mind. 

When they exit the car together, their hands are sweetly intertwined, and the world positively shakes at the sight. Tabloid writers are already preparing to gush about it on their front covers, and internet forums are preparing to argue incessantly about whether or not it was a stunt.

But Marinette and Adrien totally  _ do not care _ because this stupid movie is over and they can just move on with their lives. 

A reporter stops them as they walk down the red carpet together, and they’re already dreading the conversation before it begins. The only thought giving them strength is that there’s a light at the end of this cinematic hell-tunnel, even if this man is one of the last obstacles in their way. God knows, they’re not going to let him stop them. 

“Marinette and Adrien!” the reporter shouts obnoxiously, standing directly in their path. “Your fans want to know—what’s the key to playing Ladybug and Chat Noir?” 

It's a question that they've received a hundred times before from a hundred different people, and in the past, they would always answer it separately. But now, Marinette and Adrien exchange knowing glances and a brief smile before answering it together. 

“Oh, y’know,” Marinette says with a small hair flip. “It’s all about just… being ourselves.”

Adrien nods approvingly and stifles a laugh. Because really, they’re not kidding. Not that the world will ever understand. Everyone merely thinks that Marinette and Adrien are excellent actors—no one has ever suspected that they  _ are _ their roles. 

“What do you mean by that?” the reporter asks, pressing for elaboration. 

“Well, there’s a hero side to all of us,” Marinette recites. “And to play Ladybug and Chat Noir, it’s only a matter of tapping into it.”

The reporter chuckles. “You realize how corny that sounds, right?”

Marinette and Adrien shrug. “This is a children’s cartoon,” Adrien says with some annoyance. “It’s supposed to be a little corny.”

So with that, they push past the reporter and enter the theater, more than ready to watch the credits roll. 

And if Marinette and Adrien finally decide to kiss during that final credit roll… well… that’s their business, not anyone else’s. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this terrible fic! It was a wild ride while it lasted. 
> 
> Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go scream for five billion years 
> 
> How now brown cow?
> 
> [my tumblr](https://the-jedi.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, it gets worse.  
> My [tumblr](https://the-jedi.tumblr.com/).


End file.
